


Call of the Blood

by softisdangerous



Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris, True Blood (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Menstrual Sex, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Slow Build, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 90,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28450533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softisdangerous/pseuds/softisdangerous
Summary: After a chance encounter with a mysterious silver-eyed vampire, art teacher Jane Compton is desperate to recapture the feeling she had with her perfect stranger. When her unknown Great Uncle Jessie Compton dies, leaving her his decaying estate, she jumps at the chance for adventure. A series of events begin to unfold that will lead her on a path that there is no turning back from.***Follows True Blood events but with an unusual original character twist.
Relationships: Eric Northman/Original Female Character(s), Godric (True Blood)/Original Female Character(s), Godric/Eric Northman, Godric/Eric Northman/Original Female Character(s), Godric/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 145
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trueblood is a great universe to play in and I'm a bit addicted to writing in it! I also heard that HBO is now working on reboot (none of the original cast has been approached so far) but I'm still excited to see what comes of it. This story was highly inspired by Melusine10! This chapter starts prior to the events that start season one of the show, but will eventually start to align and you'll see some familiar dialogue and events.

Chapter One

My feet scraped over the rough rocks, and I fell a couple of times, cutting open my palms. The pain stung and burned slightly, but I didn’t mind. It made it more adventurous. More daring. I climbed the steep inclines and followed the narrow twisting path. I could hear the animals around me, and I thought they knew I was there, that I was one of them. That I was part of their world. There was something about wilderness in the dark that made everything feel more alive. I could hear every breath that I took. I could feel the healthy thudding of my heart as I exerted myself during my climb. My body shivered as my sweat cooled upon my neck from the chilly breeze that blew by. I had gone to Grover Keeton Park and was hiking up to Piedmont Ridge. It had perhaps my favorite view in all of Texas. There were two benches that I had spent many an evening on, watching the light of the sun bathe the forest in a rosy red glow as it rose high over the valley below. It was like everything would sing the moment the light touched it, the leaves would awaken, and the grass would be tipped in soft drops of morning dew. I would get my thermos of tea out from my backpack and sip the steaming cup, sketch, and watch the world become alive again.

It was my favorite spot in all the world, let alone in Dallas.

I had slowed when I knew I was coming to my spot. I wanted to greet it like an old friend. I didn’t want to rush in and bombard it. The moment and place demanded more formality from me, like entering a sacred grove. When my benches finally came into view, I was surprised and disappointed to find someone already there. A boy, in his early twenties perhaps, not much younger than me, was sitting on one of the benches staring out into the night. I knew it wasn’t particularly safe to be out alone in the woods, but I had never met anyone else out here before. It was just...surprising. The boy's head turned slowly toward me, and he reminded me rather of a hawk, the slow turn they give right before they dive for the mouse or the vole. It sent involuntary shivers down my spine. What was he doing out here?

Shaking my head at myself, I walked closer. _The same thing could be said about you, Jane_ , I told myself. _You’re out in the woods in the wee hours before dawn, like a weirdo too._ I sat on the second bench, and I got out my sketch pad. The moon was high and full and bright, and this was my favorite type of light to sketch in. The boy didn’t seem to mind my presence. He seemed calm, and maybe only slightly perturbed. He didn’t say anything to me, and I didn’t say anything to him. We stared at each other for a long time, and as if coming to some sort of understanding, he looked away from me and back over to the dark valley. Then, for some reason that I couldn’t fathom, I started sketching him.

He had dark hair and old eyes. I wondered what he had been through to have such old eyes. They were silvery grey in the moonlight, and it was an extraordinary color that my pencils would never be able to capture correctly. Something about them said _I’ve seen everything, and nothing. I’ve stared into the abyss and laughed_. How could he know so much? I couldn’t understand him at all, and he hadn’t even spoken a word. He had to be younger than me, even if only by a couple of years. I sketched his nose next, I was proud of how I captured the slope of it perfectly, and I wondered if he was related to royalty because he seemed to have the nose of a prince. That he could easily look down upon us mere mortals and with that slope of his nose and find us either worthy or unworthy, his lips were the hardest thing for me to capture, and I couldn’t quite get them right, his upper lip was soft and sensual and his bottom lip curved upward like a bow. Finally, I got them right, and I had captured his face in a mischievous smile, even though right now, his face was impassively blank.

I continued to sketch him in the pale cool light of the moon. He had on a corded necklace that disappeared down into his shirt. The material of his white shirt looked thin and cotton-like, and I was surprised he wasn’t cold in the brisk autumn air. I could see hints of tattoos beneath the white fabric, and I felt like it was an illusion designed to draw me in. I didn’t add them to my sketch; I kept the mystery there too. My drawing was lovely. I wanted to keep it. I wanted to remember this stranger on this bench next to me, who didn’t feel the need to batter me with constant chatter but could merely sit and appreciate the silence of company. I wanted to keep his strong jaw and the artful swirl of his bangs against his forehead. But I didn’t keep it. I tore the drawing from my notebook, the sound ripping loudly into the silent night.

He looked over at me, his face unreadable. I handed him the drawing, and he stared at it. I didn’t say anything in response. I just took in the leaves on the trees and the rustling of the wind and the crispness of the autumn air.

“You drew me with a smile,” he said, and his voice was both raw and smooth a strange contradiction. It certainly wasn't a Texas drawl; it sounded like a mixture of accents, and it suited him perfectly.

“I did,” I said in response.

“Why?” He looked at me briefly and then looked away.

I shook my head, my long hair escaping from the bun I placed it in before my hike, and I answered him as I drew it back up again.

“Your mouth...it was hard to draw. I tried, but this was the only way I could get it...right.”

His eyes followed the column of my neck as I pulled my hair up, and I wondered if one of my students had gotten paint on me again. I wiped at my neck and found it clean. I was suddenly extraordinarily thirsty and reached in my backpack and took a long pull off my water bottle. It didn’t seem to help.

“Why are you out here, in the darkness?” he asked me next. “It could be very dangerous for you.”

The way he said that sounded like a threat. I wondered again what he was about. “I like to hike at night and watch the sunrise. I try to capture the moment by drawing it, but...it’s always gone too quickly.”

His lips quirked at that. “Time is fleeting,” he responded.

“I guess that’s why I keep trying. If I had enough time, maybe I will get it right,” I suggested, but that made his face go dark.

“No, it wouldn’t matter. Once the sun has risen, it is gone. There will never be another like it again. That moment has forever passed,” he said, staring out into the darkness.

I listened to the animals humming in the woods, and the whisper of the wind and a strange auspicious feeling stole over me. This moment… it was important somehow.

“That’s a very beautiful thought,” I told him.

“You don’t think it’s...maudlin?”

“No,” I sighed. “It means that every moment is important then, that each second that passes is individual and wonderful. That the time I have will never be wasted because every second that stretches out before me is its own perfectly beautiful unique gift never to be heard or seen again.”

“Even moments spent in pain? In sorrow? In loss?” he questioned, and I saw him looking over at me, his strange old eyes full of doubt and wonder.

“I think so. Pain, sorrow, loss, they tell you that had something worth feeling pain over. You had something great enough that you feel the proud ache of missing what you had when it is gone. What a glorious privilege! To live a life that allows you to feel something so deeply, to experience such a joy that in its absence, you hurt. Pain always teaches you things. It’s taught me a lot.” I paused. I thought of my past sorrows, the mistakes that I had learned from. “And you can always remember that it too passes, that it is just as ephemeral as the moments of beauty and wonder we try to capture and keep. That nothing in time is permanent.”

He thought about that, and I wiped my scraped palms against my jeans, and he stiffened next to me. I drank some more of my water, still unable to quench my thirst.

“What if...what if you don’t deserve such things? The things that bring joy, what if all you have done is take?”

“Then what you have to do is give.” I stopped. I was presuming too much. “I don’t know you. I don’t know your story, but I can see you have…. old eyes, you’ve seen things. Perhaps you’ve even had to do things that you wish you hadn’t. I don’t know. But there’s beauty in forgiveness. You said yourself every sunrise is different, that each moment is unique. We can’t hold on to yesterday's sunrise...perhaps we should let those terrible moments pass, same as that uncapturable sunrise.”

He zoomed over to me, and at that moment, I realized he was a vampire. The first I’d ever met.

“I can never be forgiven for the things that I’ve done,” he told me darkly. “I should never be forgiven.”

I knew that I should feel scared, but I didn’t. Maybe because this ridge was my favorite place, and something about it spoke of peace and love. It felt sacred to me, and I knew that it was a spiritual feeling—a connection to something greater, something beyond myself. I wasn’t a religious person, but I knew that the universe was vast and that it expanded outward, and I wanted to feel that way too. That my being was a vastness that expanded out, that I was connected to everything. I felt connected here. Rooted in nature, in the stars, in the wild, and in this singular moment in time. I felt completely limitless. I felt as if all of the universe and time were stretched out before me.

“I forgive you,” I whispered to him, sincerely, letting the feeling flow up and out of me and into him. I felt it deeply in my heart that whatever he had done, it was over now. He moved to the end of the bench and stood away from me as if I scalded him with my words and feelings. His sudden departure made me feel a snap of surprise; a deep sadness stole over me.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” His raw voice echoed around me.

“I know. But forgiveness isn’t about earning it or deserving it. It’s not really about you.” I thought about all the forgiving I had to do. That I still needed to do. “It’s about those who were affected. When people hold onto grudges, it does nothing to the one they’re hating, it only eats them up inside, forgiving others is really the ultimate act of self-kindness, it’s actually quite selfish.” I could hear my own smile in the silence of the woods. “We shouldn’t waste any of these unrepeatable moments on hate or guilt. I imagine that it was mostly humans that you’ve affected, so on behalf of humans...you’re forgiven. So now humans don’t have to hold onto what has happened to them,” I decided for him. “I think that’s the best place we can start, humans and vampires, by forgiving and moving on.”

He sat back down.

“You’re bleeding.” His voice was practiced and even, but there was something underneath it. I sipped more water, still thirsty, unsure about what he meant.

I looked at my palms. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”

His silver gaze pierced the raw red scrapes on my hands. “Bother is not the word I would use.”

His dry response made me chuckle. “Why are you out here?” I asked him.

He looked around. “I honestly don’t know anymore,” he replied, and then I saw the mischievous smile that I drew for him spread slowly across his face. It occurred to me that I had drawn him correctly. It looked absolutely, perfectly, exactly, right. He was by far the most charming man I had ever met.

“Oh,” I said, stunned by the perfect surrealness of his expression.

He turned away, and there was a moment of silence between us. Before he even turned back to me, I knew something was wrong. When he finally turned back around, his smile was gone, and the look in his eye was that of a child’s. It was open and heart-wrenching, and I almost gasped at the sight.

“I...I had wanted to meet the sun,” he told me hoarsely, and I could feel the vulnerable honesty pouring off him.

“Because of what you had done?”

He nodded. “Now...I don’t know. You’ve made me have...doubts.” He seemed like he wasn’t someone who usually had doubts.

“Good,” I said, smiling wide, and I felt a tear in the corner of my eye, and I wiped it away. I knew I felt things deeply. I wasn’t embarrassed by it anymore. Maybe it was that I couldn’t stand the thought of that perfect grin not existing. He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before, a mixture of adoration, joy, and incredulity.

“May I give you something?” he asked out of nowhere.

“What is it?”

He took off a necklace from around his neck and held it out to me. On it was a small hammer-like shape.

“Please accept it. It is not nearly enough.” His voice held a tone of desperation that I didn’t really understand.

“All I gave you was a drawing,” I told him as I slipped it on automatically. Something about the desperate edge had me already accepting, wanting it to be mine. I felt relief as I held it in my hand. It felt cool and ancient. Special. He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made insides clench.

“You’re very strange,” he told me, his smile making his eyes crinkle.

“No, I’m perfectly normal,” I replied, a smile spreading across my face before I could stop it.

“You have very rare blood,” he said, looking back at my stinging, angry palms. “That is not normal.”

“I do have the AB negative blood type. So I guess that’s not average, but everything else about me is just plain. Plain Jane.”

“I...no. Nevermind.” He turned away from me, and I saw the moonlight bounce off his pale skin.

“Wow. You’re so...beautiful.” Before I could stop myself, I was touching the cool, almost icy skin of his arm and examining where the light touched it. “Your skin is like opaque marble.”

“I have not fed in a very long time,” he explained to me, and I saw him look at my scraped hands again. Finally, I understand that look, the meaning behind that intense gaze. It was thirst.

“Oh...why?”

He looked out over the ridge, and sadness seemed to settle on him like a shroud. “I did not feel that I deserved to.” His voice was brittle; the melancholy of it made me feel as if I would shed more unwilling tears.

I sat back down on my bench, thinking. This was a dangerous idea, but I couldn’t help it. I felt that he did deserve it. I wanted to wash away his aching sadness. I wanted to help him.

“Well, you can drink from me, I mean, if you want,” I offered.

He sat down next to me in a flash. “You’re offering me your blood?” His silver eyes reflected the light of the moon, and his expression was that of mystery and wonder.

“Yes,” I agreed in a whisper. I was suddenly elated and nervous. “Please...be gentle, though? I’ve never done this.” I swallowed. I looked into his grey eyes, and I saw his pupils dilate and then stay open wide. They were mesmerizing and beautiful—liquid pools of soft moonlight. I had never seen anything quite like it.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised me, and I believed him without reserve.

He leaned in, and I got to see all of his features up close. His long eyelashes, and his ancient grey eyes, his royal nose, and sensual mouth. I felt my heart thud against my rib cage, and he moved his head down my neck and sniffed at my skin.

“You smell like water, paint, and like roses.” He breathed across my skin, sending goosebumps along my body. His tongue touched my neck, and I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Oh, it was so...sensual, arousing, personal. This was an intimate act, letting him drink my blood. “Your heart is beating very hard. Are you very scared?” he asked me, and I felt his hands on my upper arms, trying to comfort me.

“I’m not scared. It’s...it’s lovely,” I breathed out to him.

His hand trailed to my waist, under my shirt, I felt him stroke the soft, smooth skin under my breast. I gripped his shoulders, and I heard myself make a sound that was something between a moan and pant. His mouth smiled against my neck as if pleased by my response. Then I felt the lightest pressure against my neck, more like a light pinch than the pain I expected, and it caused me to gasp. His hand had come up and cupped my breast under my bra, and his fingers found my already hardened nipple, and as he pulled the blood from my throat, he teased my nipple gently between his fingers.

“Oh, please!” I whispered, but I wasn’t really sure what I was begging for. His mouth nursed against the skin of my neck, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to climax from the strange moment and these convoluted feelings of pleasure and pain. Of mystery and beauty. This chance encounter with a dangerous, beautiful creature on a moonlit night in my favorite place in the world. What was happening? I was going to peak from this? If it hadn’t felt so right, I would have felt embarrassed by my body’s reaction. He was barely touching me after all, but it was so profound. It was the deepness of the connection that put me right to the edge.

He sank his fangs in deeper, pinching my nipple harder, and I suddenly crested. I felt my body floating and him drinking from me deeply, and it’s as if time stood still to allow me to have one perfect moment of pure bliss, of nirvana, and spiritual awakening in the arms of a strange perfect vampire.

When I came out of my haze, I realized I was surrounded by clouds.

“You’re awake,” he said, and it occurred to me that I was flying in his arms. We were flying.

“Is this a dream?” I asked him as he began to descend.

He smiled that mischievous smile again. “If it was, would it be a good one?” he asked me instead.

“Oh yes, very good,” I replied. He set me down on my feet. We were back at the parking lot, my beat-up Honda CRV, the only one in the parking lot.

He looked at me and then at my neck. “Will you permit me to heal you?” he said suddenly, as if impulsively.

“Heal me?” I didn’t know what he meant.

He looked at me intensely. “If I give you some of my blood, it will heal you.”

I shook my head. I had heard strange things on the news about vampire blood, and I didn’t want to pollute this memory by taking his blood. “No, thank you.”

He looked at me, stunned. “You’re...you’re certain?”

I nodded. “I appreciate the offer. But I’ll be fine.”

This night was too perfect, and I didn’t want it to end. I could hardly stand it. This moment felt important, as if it was life-changing. It was, but I didn’t know that at the time. I just knew that I had been seen and found, and it had been far more awe-inspiring than the sunrise that I had come to try to capture. And just like that sunrise, in a few moments, it would be gone. A singular perfect memory, I wanted one more perfect instant.

“Can I ask you for just one thing before you go?” He looked at me, concerned. “May...may I have your kiss?”

The look on his face told me that what I said was not what he expected, but in mere seconds his lips were pressed ardently and fully against mine, and I was kissing him back hungrily. I parted my lips lightly, and I could feel the gentle, intimate brush of his tongue against mine. I tasted my own blood in his mouth, and it made me feel like I was doing something dangerous, taboo even. He had pressed my back against my car, and I wanted to lift my legs and wrap them around him, but I resisted the urge. I could feel him, the hard length of him, pressed against me, and it made me moan.

He released me then. He pressed his forehead to mine, and we stood frozen like that, trying to make sense of the connection between us. I kept my eyes closed still, trying to capture the moment like I do when I draw or paint. To commit it to memory and time. When I felt him release me, I opened my eyes to look at him again. He was standing right there in front of me, a lovely flush to his skin, his eyes burning darkly, and then he stepped away.

“Thank you,” I whispered to him softly.

He shook his head at me in disbelief, as if I were preposterous, and suddenly he looked young, boyish, and charming. “Thank you,” he replied seriously, although his lips had quirked into that grin again. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and toed the gravel of the parking lot. I opened my car door, and I got inside and closed it. I looked out my window to give him one last look goodbye...but he was gone.

****

And that was it. I dreamed about the night a lot, but my life continued on. I taught my art lessons to my elementary students and my night courses at the community college. My life went on, and that night was just a perfect memory. I didn’t go back to the benches. I didn’t want to tarnish the memory by having anything else happen to me there. I made sure to keep it as perfect and pristine as a masterpiece work of art.

Fall changed to winter, and I spent my winter break evaluating my life. The thousands of moments still stretched out before me. I wanted change, movement. I needed to experience something different. That night made me thirsty for something that I couldn’t explain. I had a need for something and didn’t know what I could do or how I could quench it. City life had always been overwhelming for me. I liked the culture and the museums, but the number of people compressed into one area always sucked away some of the beauty. I found them overwhelming and interacting with them tiring. The litter and garbage, the stink of cigarette smoke and urine. I wanted to get away. I wanted wilderness and silence. I wanted freedom from the ordinary.

After winter break, my thirst for something new became stronger. I spent my weekends driving out of the city and into strange and forgotten places. Old derelict barns filled with feral cats, abandoned dilapidated plantation houses whose grandeur had faded but still held a spark of glamour, massive empty fields with rusted old silos that echoed hauntingly when you sang in them, and hidden creeks that burbled and flowed continuously and endlessly until they reached the sea. I was searching for something I couldn’t quite find. I wanted a taste of the past, of otherness, and time. My sketchbook became full of luxurious decay, of morbidly elegant scenery, and of my perfect stranger with old silver eyes.

But still, I was lost.

My elementary students loved my work. I didn’t show them my vampire friend, but I would show them the other things I drew, to show them that art was forever. That you can love to draw at ten years old and continue to do so until you are twenty-eight, or eighty-four, or for however long you could hold your implement in your shaking weathered hand. I wanted to show them that they could turn their passion into something real, that being an artist wasn’t a job but an identity. That it was your purpose to see, to notice, to create, and capture the beauty of the world, to bring that beauty to life, to preserve it for all who come after you.

My spring was spent in desperate aching, trying to recapture that feeling of that night with my vampire. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I had looked up teaching positions all over the country and the world. I had done a semester abroad in France when I was in college, and I had liked traveling, but it had ultimately fallen flat on the empty promise of uniqueness. Why couldn’t I create that right here? Did I really need to travel so far to find what I was looking for? My heart had settled into a kind of blind acceptance of my fate. I counted myself lucky to have had such an encounter at all, and I pushed myself to look for the perfect otherness closer to me, to find the extraordinary right in front of me. In many ways, I did. I found it at the moment that I poured my coconut milk creamer into my dark English breakfast tea, and I would see it swirl in a lovely twist. I found it the gap-toothed smile of a child as they showed me their perfectly imperfect art. I found it in my quiet dawn walks when I could see my breath steam and curl out in front of me.

I dug for more lost places. I found a cave full of stalactites that dripped in a melodic rhythm that I was certain was a song sung by the universe. My adventures took me to a field of wildflowers that hummed with thousands of insects and bloomed and faded within just a month. They crumbled beneath my fingers, and I stood in the desolate meadow, wondering how it could have been so full and become so empty so quickly. I had always been obsessed with beauty, with noticing it, recording it, with creating it, but it was as if I had been turned into an addict looking to find things that were forgotten and fading, and somehow trying to see them and make them beautiful again.

My plan to satisfy this hunger by staying here had only made me more ravenous. By feeding myself these small tidbits of strange mundane beauty, I had become even more addicted to it. I found myself stopping in front of a building to press my body to the magnificent architecture and sitting for hours trying to draw the single twisted limb of a tree. I longed for connection to something more, something greater. I began to people-watch and observe their interactions and their expressions. To see the loveliness and ugliness within them.

It wasn’t until one of my students talked to me that I began to wonder about my mental state.

“Are you lonely, Miss Compton?” One of my fifth graders, Mallory, asked.

“Why would you ask me that, Mallory?” I said as she examined my most recent sketch; a single startling white cow’s skull in a field, the broken, empty farmhouse almost indistinguishable in the background.

“I dunno. All of your art recently just feels so...apart from everything,” Mallory said as she packed up her things.

“I’m fine,” I told her with my teacher's smile. “Have a nice break!”

“Thanks! You too, Miss Compton.”

I sat down at my desk, alone in my classroom. Was I lonely? I had always been an introvert, and the other teachers, while kind, were busy with their own classrooms, their own lives, and their families. I had a few acquaintances, but I didn’t keep up with them much. They wanted to go out and drink, and party and I wanted to visit strange and abandoned places. I wanted to drink tea in coffee shops, read books, and copy down sentences that I loved, quotes that captured ideas that I hadn’t thought of. I was in the world, but not part of it. I didn’t have a family anymore, my parents and grandparents were all gone, and I had no siblings. I had spent a great deal of my time alone, and I preferred it that way. I didn’t think I was lonely. I was just alone. As far as I knew, I was the only Compton.

That was until I received a call at the beginning of June. Two measly weeks before school let out.

“Am I speaking with a Miss Jane Compton?” the fancy Louisiana accent asked me.

“You are. With whom am I speaking?” I replied politely.

“My name is Sid Lancaster. I am an attorney representing the estate of your Great Uncle. Jessie Compton.”

“Oh,” I replied. “I didn’t know I had a Great Uncle.”

“Well, I don’t think he knew about you either. He willed his estate to pass to his closest relative and that Miss appears to be you.”

“His estate?”

“It’s a bit run down, he had spent the last several years in a care facility, but it’s yours now.”

“Where..where is it?”

“Bon Temps, Louisiana.”

*****

Eric’s POV

I sat in Godric’s lair, unsure where my Maker would be this close to sunrise. He was cutting it awfully close. I leaned back in his chair, my feet on his polished mahogany desk, waiting for him to come in. He had been falling deeper into his depression, the last century, more so than any other. It was as if the rising of modern times made him feel even more ancient, and I wondered if it was just that he was losing touch.

My goal tonight had been to come here and get him to feed. I visited him two times a month since the eighties when Pam and I had been forcibly relocated to Shreveport, and I wasn't going to stop breaking my tradition now. During my last several visits, spanning for at least the length of a year, he had looked paler and paler, and I feared he was starving himself. He always put me off. Saying he was fine. That he needed very little blood anymore, I was frustrated that he wasn’t here, and now it was so close to dawn I was going to have to get the bleeds and stay over day just to get an opportunity to talk to him.

When he burst through the double doors to his office, I saw the changes in him immediately. Gone was the sad, withdrawn ghoul that had been haunting this Sheriff’s office, and in his place was a mischievous impish creature that I hadn’t seen in at least a century, whose cheeks were flushed rosy with fresh blood. He smiled grandly at me, and I was so overjoyed with this change of demeanor. I thought I might shed blood tears.

“Godric!” I said as I moved my feet off the desk. “My gods, what has caused this change?”

He shook his head and smiled at me mysteriously.

“You won’t tell me? Truly? You seem to be...born anew. As if refashioned by a new god,” I told him honestly.

His grin grew wider. “Perhaps I was.”

“You’ve fed! You’re glowing.” I was amazed.

“Yes, my son. I did,” he replied, and his lips were upturned in such a way that it made me think he found much more than blood.

“Who? Who was this person you fed from?” I asked, how did they do it? I would find them and make them do it again, forever, if it brought my Maker back to himself this way.

Suddenly his face clouded over. He slumped in his chair. “I...I didn’t get her name.” His face was full of longing.

“She got you to feed, and you didn’t even get her name?!” I nearly shouted at him.

He shook his head. “It was… it was the strangest thing,” he whispered to me.

Holy fuck. What had happened to him tonight? I had never seen him like this. Not in the thousand years that I knew him had ever looked like he did right now. As if he had held the most precious thing in the world in his hands and then let it slip slowly through his fingers. Like he had let it melt away into an oblivion of nothingness.

“Let me find her for you,” I demanded. I couldn’t see him like this again, back to his old ways.

“No, Eric, it was a fleeting perfect moment, and now it is gone,” he responded, not quite as sullen as he used to be, but not with the cheerful, joyous countenance he had when he came in.

“In the very least, describe her to me,” I begged.

“You can stay in the guest chambers. They’re still keyed to admit you,” he said instead.

“Godric, please-” I started again, but when he turned around, the power that blasted from him made me cower. His eyes were black, and his body was taut, and I knew now that I could not persuade him.

“Enough.” Was the only word he spoke, and I turned to leave. I saw him open his desk drawer, grab a letter from inside, and then throw it into the fireplace. Perhaps I would never understand him. If I hadn’t after a thousand years, I doubted I would get any better at predicting his moods now.

I walked down to the basement and scanned into the light-tight secure room. I threw my long body on the bed. How could I help him when he wouldn’t allow himself to be helped? How could I save him from something that he didn’t even see? My Maker thought that he could conquer anything, that he was untouchable, but he couldn’t see that the future was laid out right in front of him as it always had been. He just needed to find the will to take it.

After that night, I left and went back to Shreveport. I ran the bar. I did my Sheriff’s duties. I paid my taxes to Queen Sophie Ann. It was all very normal. I texted Godric two weeks later, confirming that he would actually be at his home when I came to see him, only to receive a response that he would be out.

Out where?

I asked, and he sent me GPS coordinates. It looked like some trail near a park, and I sighed. Of course, he would be moody and brooding, out in nature, communing with the beasts. He never did grow out of his human pagan tendencies.

I flew from Shreveport and met him there. He was sitting on a bench, calm and pale. It was obvious to me that he hadn’t fed since I had last seen him, living like a damn monk. I plopped myself down on the bench next to him, and he didn’t move to look at me. He stared into the darkness.

“Why are we here?” I asked him, looking around at the dirt.

“Because it’s beautiful,” he replied.

And so it went. Every time I visited from then on, we met at that bench. He got paler and paler and more philosophical and obscure. I wasn’t sure what to do for him. He would sit in silence, and I would try to engage with him, but he would smile sadly and mysteriously. It was like trying to talk to a fucking zen koan.

I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea how to help him.

How can you save God from himself?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll start to notice how this chapter follows along with the show a bit more. This story has a bit of a slow build up, but I think it's necessary to build some depth for the characters.

Chap 2

Jane’s POV - _Monday, June 15th & Tuesday, June 16th, 2009_

As I drove into Bon Temps, I was pretty sure that I had made a mistake. I had built up in my mind an image of this little rural town in Northern Louisiana, the decadence of southern decay meets quaint small-town charm, and what I saw when I first drove through reminded me of a bad scene from a horror movie. Surely hill people were going to come down and start shaking my car at any moment.

I found a spot to park on Main Street and went to meet with Sid Lancaster. I had finished up the last two weeks of school, and I was happily on summer break now. Sid Lancaster was a charming southern gentleman and graciously offered me sweet tea when I entered his office. It was already sweltering out, and I couldn’t have been more grateful.

He and I went through the paperwork, and then I had proudly inherited my never before seen Great Uncle’s estate. It was near dark when we finished up.

“Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Lancaster,” I told him as I left.

“No problem at all. May I ask what your plans are for the old Compton Estate?”

I smiled and shrugged. “I really don’t know yet. I’m going to go look at it tonight.”

“Oh. Well alright. Let me know if you need any help, dear," he said.

“Thanks,” I replied, and I left. As I drove toward the house the setting sun was turning the sky a burnt orange color, streaked with brushes of cotton candy pink. The small clouds reflected the light, throwing it outwards as if inviting the earth into its embrace. It was another fleeting moment, and I held onto it as I drove down the worn-out road to the estate as dusk was settling in. The estate was right next to a cemetery that I already longed to explore and see what hidden ancient things I could discover there.

Parking my car out front, I stood and observed the house in the rapidly dying twilight light. It was gorgeous. The paint was peeling, and the shutters were crooked, but it spoke to me in the language of time, and it had seen so much. It was an original to the town, and I wanted to try to preserve it. To save its old bones. I delicately walked across the wooden boards of the porch, and I could feel them give slightly under my feet, and it filled me with a sense of giddiness. It was as if adventure was underfoot. I used the tarnished brass skeleton key to open the heavy door, and it creaked open.

I took in the foyer. It had scuffed but original hardwood floors, and peeking to the parlor, I could see battered old antique furniture. The winding staircase leading up had a banister that I wanted to feel against my palms to see if any memories of the hands of people who touched would spill forth. I loved it immediately. It didn’t feel like what I had been trying to find, but it captured a part of it—a connection to those fleeting moments that had already passed long before I had even been born.

I was frozen in my admiration when suddenly I heard a door creak open and footsteps. I turned around to see a man. He looked rather old-fashioned; he had strange long sideburns. He zoomed toward me, and I realized he wasn’t a man at all but a vampire. His hand was on my throat, and he was choking me.

“Who are you? Who sent you here?” he demanded, gazing directly into my eyes, and I answered him as if compelled.

“I’m Jane Compton, and I was sent by the lawyer Sid Lancaster. This is my house.”

He released me then. I rubbed my throat.

“Jane...Compton?” he asked, surprised, and then seemed to analyze every aspect of my face. “I thought Jessie Compton had no living relatives.”

“I didn’t know about him. At least not until the lawyer tracked me down,” I told him. “Who are you? Are you like living here?”

The vampire gestured me to a moth-eaten antique sofa. I sat watching him. He was the second vampire I had ever met, and I found him rather lacking. I supposed anyone would pale in comparison to my first vampire and my experience with him. But this one was especially drab. His presence seemed ordinary, mundane. A landscape picture hung blandly in a hotel room. I was bored.

“My name is Bill Compton, and you are my descendant,” he said.

“What?!” I stood up. He was like my vampire, great-great-grandpa? Maybe that’s why I found him so dull.

Bill blathered on for a moment about how his family originally built this house and how he had married and had children before being turned. It should have been a compelling story, but he was milk toast, his voice was dry and banal, his southern drawl like the sound a fan makes in the background.

“Alright, I get it, but why are you here now? In my house.” I finally had to interrupt him.

“The point that I am trying to make, Jane, is that it is not your house. It is my house,” he said, standing. “I think you should just be on your way now.”

“I’m sorry, Grandpa Bill, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” I said, folding my arms stubbornly.

He rolled his eyes. “So be it,” he said. “I am going out tonight.”

Then he left. Did I just inherit a house that had a vampire squatter living in it? I shook off the weirdness that was my encounter with him, and I went to explore the rest of the house. It was mostly empty, but it was worn, damaged, and to me, quite beautiful. I knew in my heart of hearts that I wanted it. I had to figure out a way to get my insipid blathering ancestor out of my house.

I finally reached a point where I was too tired to continue to explore, so I laid down on the moth-eaten sofa to sleep for the night. As I closed my eyes, my mind filled with plans of what I would capture first. Would I do a full-size painting of the facade, showing all the worn and weathered cracks? Or maybe the staircase...My mind drifted off, and my dreams were filled with my vampire friend. He was walking through the house, caressing the peeling wallpaper.

“ _It’s not very old.” He said in his wonderfully strange amalgam of an accent. “But, it’s already begun to fade.”_

_“Old things need care, or they won’t last,” I said back to him with a smile._

_He grinned at me impishly. “I’m an old thing; perhaps I need some care?”_

I woke up to the sound of the door opening, and my vampire ancestor entered, covered in blood.

“Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed. “Did you kill somebody?”

“If I say yes, will you leave of your own volition?” he asked instead of answering.

“Why are you covered in blood?” I said, crossing the room, but suddenly he made eye contact with me.

“Jane,” he said to me, hypnotically.

“Yes?”

“You’re leaving. This is not your house anymore. It is mine,” he said.

“Your house. Not mine.” I heard myself repeat.

“That’s right, now leave,” he said, and I followed his instruction.

By the time I was in my car and realized that he used some sort of mind control magic on me, I was already halfway down the road.

God fucking dammit! I hit my hand against the steering wheel.

I didn't know that vampires could do that. Not for real anyway. I always thought it was one of those stereotypes that people said to justify their hate. He was rather stupid. Why did he let me remember what he did?

Maybe Sid Lancaster could help me! But then I supposed the vampire would just use his Jedi mind trick on him too. And probably the police. The mind control aspect of vampires was a lot scarier than I had originally thought. Now that I was really reasoning about it, I figured out that I needed someone who wouldn’t be controlled by his hypnotism.

Someone not human.

My next thought was of trying to search out my vampire, the one that filled my dreams and sketchbook. I discarded that idea quickly. I had no idea how to find him, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. I had preserved the memory of him so carefully. It was like a delicate flower pressed in the pages of a book. If I moved it or shook it, it would crumble and be gone.

So how did one find a vampire? And how did you ask them for a favor? Maybe I could pay them. Surely vampires wanted money. They would still have to buy things, right? I suppose they could just use their brain magic and make humans give them whatever they wanted. My mind went round and round. What did vampires want, other than my house, apparently? I parked my car at a shitty motel, and as I was getting out, it occurred to me. I almost smacked myself upside the head. It was so obvious.

Blood. Vampires want blood.

I knew that I had pretty rare blood. Less than one percent of the population had AB negative blood. Maybe I could get a vampire to help me by offering them some of my blood. They could probably just take it if they really wanted. I marched grumpily into the motel lobby and got a room. They said I could extend my reservation for however long I wanted, and I just decided to book myself the week. I could always check out sooner. I needed more sleep. I couldn’t think this through all the way, being so tired after my blood-covered great-grandpa woke me up.

After I slept for a while, I woke up in the afternoon to the sound of people yelling, crying babies, and all the other unpleasant sounds that usually accompany people. Groggily, I showered and got dressed. I put my necklace back on, the little hammer that I wore every day, and I slipped on a nice baby blue sundress. I needed a plan. I wanted to get my house back. My stomach grumbled. Maybe I would come up with a plan after I had some food.

I walked down to the lobby. “Where’s a good place to eat around here?” I asked.

“Well, there’s Merlotte’s Bar and Grill just up the road,” the manager said, not looking up from her paper.

“Thanks,” I replied, and I got into my little SUV. I followed the road, and I saw the turn off down a dirt driveway. I certainly wasn’t in Dallas anymore.

I parked and went in. I was directed to a booth and given a menu. This place had a strange feel to it. Like a lot of bad things happened here. I shivered and looked away from the dead animals' heads hanging all over the walls.

“Hi, I’m Sookie; what can I get ya started with?” A blonde waitress with a bouncing ponytail asked.

I looked back at the menu. I wanted to try the veggie burger, but I wasn’t sure if there were eggs or dairy in the patty or the bun, and I didn’t want to be the annoying vegan bitch who asked and then had people in the back spit her food.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. They won’t do that. I’ll go ask,” she said as she bounced away.

How did she know what I was...thinking?

“Lafayette, do our buns for our burgers have dairy or eggs in ‘em?” I heard her call through the kitchen server's window.

“Let me look... no theys don’t.”

“And the veggie burger does that have eggs or dairy in it?”

“I makes ‘em myself, and they do not.” I heard a sassy voice reply.

The waitress bounced back over. “So veggie burger, no cheese, no mayo, extra mustard, and a side of fries?” she repeated to me as if I had given her my order.

I just nodded.

“Oh!” she said as if realizing what she had just done.

“That’s quite a talent,” I told her. “Can I have sweet tea too?”

She walked away quickly. I guess that wasn’t people's usual response. A group of guys that look like they worked construction came in and snagged a table near me. They laughed and joked, and I made sure not to make eye contact with them. Groups of men were like jackals or hyenas, they could sense a weak gazelle and would prey upon her.

The blonde waitress, Sookie, came back with my sweet tea. “Hi, I was wondering...do you get a lot of vampires around here?”

She shook her head. “Not really. We just got our first one last night, actually. But there’s a vampire bar in Shreveport.”

“A vampire bar? What do they do? Serve people on tap?” I asked, astounded.

Sookie laughed. “No, they serve Tru Blood, and people who want to meet vampires go there, I guess.”

“Oh,” I said, and I ate a french fry. “Thanks.”

“Sure. No problem.” Her blond ponytail swished as she walked away.

I guess I could go there and check it out. I could see if there would be anyone willing to help me. It seemed kind of risky, but I knew that no human would be able to help. I finished my burger and my fries, and I sipped my sweet tea lightly. I listened to the conversation flow around me. The men at the table worked for the county, clearing and repairing roads. I feel the eyes of the man with a cajun accent staring at me, but when I look up, he seemed completely absorbed in conversation with the other men. I shivered a little again and left.

Not sure what this vampire bar was called, I went to the public library, and I used their computer to look it up. _Fangtasia_. I stifled my laugh. It was funny. I liked it. It seemed rather touristy and tawdry, but I guess that’s just what people would expect from a vampire bar. I paid five cents to print the directions, and the librarian gave me a dirty look for coming in only to use the computer to print something.

I figured out that by the time I drove there, it would already have been open for an hour, so I saw no point in delaying. I enjoyed the drive over; driving down country roads was relaxing to me. I rolled the window down, let the breeze wash over me, and I looked at the moss that draped from the trees like long beards of old wizards. I saw the silhouette of an owl as it swooped down from the trees. Perhaps this town wasn’t so bad. I wondered if they had a school that needed an art teacher. I pondered about what it would be like if I could get my weird vampire relative out of my house and if I could make a life for myself here.

Was I getting closer to what I was looking for?

The daydream lasted me until I reached the parking lot. It was there that my brain started processing that I needed to be on my toes. Stay alert. I had to be careful now that I knew that the mind control thing was real. When I got out, I realized that I probably should have gone back to the motel and changed out of my soft sundress. However, after looking at the garb of the patrons that were going in, I decided it wouldn’t have mattered what I wore. I didn’t own anything that would have made me fit in with this scene.

I had my ID ready at the entrance, I was only twenty-eight, and I looked younger, I figured I would be getting carded forever, but I didn’t really mind. A blonde vampire in a corset gave me a wide grin and let me enter after checking to make sure I was of age. When I entered, I wasn’t too surprised by what I saw. Vampires dancing on stripper poles and in cages, the mass of people moving to a heavy bass. I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to find a vampire to help me. I went up to the bar. The vampire working was Native American, and his long black hair pulled back into a queue.

“What can I get for you?” he asked gruffly, and I felt very thirsty.

“Umm...a ginger ale,” I responded; I didn’t want alcohol. I knew I needed to stay wary.

“Alright,” he said and began making my drink.

“Do you know a vampire named Bill Compton?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “I don’t,” he replied, his eyes lingered about my neck, and I felt uncomfortable and still thirsty.

“Oh. Okay.” I paid for my drink and gave him a good tip.

“You could try and see if _he’ll_ see you. He knows all the vampires in the area,” the vampire said, seeing my generous tip, and nodded his head behind me.

I turned, and I saw a vampire on a throne. It was clearly a throne, with him sitting upon it. I was immediately aware that he was a predator, and I was sure that was part of his draw, that he did that on purpose. He looked rather like a bored lion. Completely at ease, but as if he could pounce any moment. He was typing on his phone, and he looked as if he’d prefer being anywhere but here. He felt familiar to me too, and I found that startling.

“How do I talk to him?” I asked.

“You can wait to see if he notices you, or you can risk walking up to him.”

“Risk?”

“He doesn’t always respond well.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I told the bartender, and I took my drink, and I found a booth to sit in. I sat so I could watch the vampire on the throne. I wondered if he’d notice me. I got out my sketchbook because I couldn’t stop my impulse to want to draw him. I flipped past the pages filled with my vampire, and the ones filled with my obsession with old secret hidden places, to a crisp fresh blank page.

I started with his long blond hair. I liked it. It was unusual, especially not tying it back. Then I did the oval shape of his face, then the strong line of his jaw, and the length of his neck. I found a perverse joy in sketching the breadth of his wide shoulders. For some reason, I decided to draw him with his hands steepled as if thinking deeply rather than playing with his phone. His hands and fingers were difficult to sketch, and I felt like I couldn't quite capture the size of his hands, the magnitude of his presence. I did the details of his face last, and I decided I liked the cleft of his chin the most. It had been my favorite detail to capture. I couldn’t really do his eyes justice because I hadn’t brought my colored pencils with me, and the startling icy ocean blue color just couldn’t be captured by grey graphite, but I feel I got the look of them right. I had observed him more closely than I had even known. How his eyes took in this place, how they stopped on the women he found most interesting, how he smiled at the blonde vampire at the door. His eyes said a lot of things to me, and they told a story. A King surveying his kingdom, a proud warrior, a flirtatious gentleman, a rogue with a heart of gold?

The night wore on, and I added more and more detail, the length of his long legs folded over in his throne—the throne itself down to the tiniest markings on the wood. I shaded the rest of the small page out, so it looked as if he were alone under a single spotlight. It was getting late, and he still had made no move that he had noticed me. I decided that I would give him the drawing, and if he still wasn’t interested in talking to me, I would move on and try to find another way to get rid of Boring Bill.

As I walked forward, I couldn’t tell if my pace was more of a bride down the aisle or that of a funeral procession. I felt the eyes of the crowd on me, and when I reached him, I held out the paper. By the way he looked at me, I could see that he had, in fact, noticed me earlier. That perhaps he had been watching me the entire night. He put his phone away and took the drawing from me. I watched him analyze it, and it felt like the whole bar was holding its collective breath.

He gestured for me to sit, and everything started turning again. People went back to dancing and drinking.

“You’ve got my attention,” he said, in a bored even tone. His eyes told a different story. He was interested, excited that I was up there with him.

“I… I need help. From a vampire,” I told him.

He raised an eyebrow at me as if to say, _help with what?_

“I inherited my Great Uncle’s house, but well, there’s already a vampire living there, and he doesn’t want me to have the house. He used his mind powers on me to make me leave,” I told him, and he rolled his head as if considering my words.

“What’s this vampire’s name?” he asked lazily.

“Bill Compton. I guess I’m like his descendant or something.” I said, and he looked at me sharply. “Why is he… bad? He came back covered in blood…” I trailed off; maybe that was normal. How would I know?

“If I help you with this problem, what would I get in return?” he asked, and I felt his eyes on me again, but I made sure not to make eye contact.

“What would you want?”

A predatory smile spread across his face. “Come with me,” he said, and he left his throne and moved through the crowd. I followed him, and I felt a little bit closer to what I had been searching for. My hands clenched in a mixture of apprehension and elation. We went down a hallway, and he opened a door and gestured me to enter the office. I went in, and he closed the door behind him. I swallowed at the sound of the door clicking into place.

“This is a very big task. I would be displacing a vampire from his home,” he told me, and his voice was deep and rumbly.

“I don’t have very much money. I’m an art teacher,” I told him. He continued to grin as if I had said something funny.

“I would not ask for money,” he replied.

“Oh. Okay. What do you want from me?” I asked, trying to be brave.

“I want to claim you. I would want you to agree to be mine,” he told me, his eyes burning brightly. “I have not claimed a human in many years. It would be a great pleasure to do so again.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He steepled in his fingers, just like in my drawing. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, I provide you with protection, and you, in turn, offer me your blood.”

There, I knew it. Blood. Vampires need blood.

“I...I feel like there’s more to it than that. How do I know you won’t do that mind-boggling thing on me?”

“How do you know I haven’t already done it?” he asked, raising his eyebrow, and I wrinkled my brow at him. “It’s a matter of trust.”

I nodded. Trust. Could I trust this large cat trapped in a man’s body? Something lingering about him made my heart scream. _Yes!_ My mind, however, knew better. Men were not trustworthy.

“I gave my blood to a vampire once. Just the once...and it wasn’t like I was making him dinner. It was very...intimate,” I tried to explain my fear.

His eyes glowed deeper. “If done right...it certainly can be. If you were mine, I would only take your blood...and then I would give whatever else you ask for.”

I swallowed again, and I felt warm and flushed.

“I can hear your heartbeat pitter-patter. Are you scared, little dove?” he asked me, and I felt like he liked the idea of my heart beating hard for him.

“No. I just want to be sure I understand. If I agree to be yours, and I give you my blood, then you’ll get Bill out of my house?” I asked, and he nodded. “How long would I have to be yours for?”

“How long would you like to live in the house?” he replied.

I understood better then. It was indefinite, a long-standing arrangement.

“Can I take the day to think about it?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I just realized...I never got your name.”

“Eric Northman,” he replied.

“I’m Jane. Jane Compton.”

“Well, dear Jane, I look forward to hearing your answer tomorrow,” he said, and he brought my hand to his cool lips and kissed the back of it gently.

I left quickly, my heart beating out of my chest. What was wrong with me? How could I let him affect me so? I drove back to my motel room in Bon Temps, mulling over the entire conversation we had and what all the implications of being his were. I needed to get some sleep, and then first thing when I was fresh, I would make a list of all the questions that I had to have answered before I agreed.

When I got back to the motel, I changed into a sleep shirt and shorts and piled myself in the middle of the bed. I tried to imagine what my grey-eyed vampire would say about this predicament. I couldn’t imagine. I fell into a fitful sleep, and I dreamed of the two vampires, their blue and grey eyes both staring at me, burning into me, making me feel as though I was caught between the massive gulf of the ocean and the endless grey rock that meets it. I was being pushed and pulled and drowned and buoyed. I was torn between endless wonder and suffocating pleasure, and I woke up disoriented and gasping.

My heart had decided what to do. It was my head that had to be convinced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still interested in having a beta, please let me know if you're interested. 
> 
> \- Soft


	3. Chapter 3

Chap 3

Jane’s POV  _ Wednesday, June 17th & Thursday, June 18th, 2009 _

I stretched. I rolled the achy muscles from my shoulders that were tight from the cheap hotel mattress. My neck made tiny cracking sounds as I rolled it back and forth. I twisted my body into a myriad of positions working out the kinks, both mental and physical. Then, feeling satisfied and calm, I got out my sketchbook and started writing down all the questions I had for Mr. Northman about what it would mean to be “his” indefinitely. 

When I finished, I was surprised to see how short the list was. Last night I had felt like I had millions of questions, and now I had narrowed it down to just the most pertinent. I went and showered, the water pressure was terrible, and I wasn’t very satisfied with my experience at the motel. I wondered what the water and plumbing were like at the estate. I could tell when I had explored that there were problems with the electricity. I daydreamed about the house and how I would take my time and save my money a little at a time and have it slowly restored. 

Having lounged around in bed until well into the afternoon, I had to go and get some food. I drove downtown and found a cute little diner. I couldn’t find anything on the menu that didn’t have meat, or eggs, or dairy in it except for fries. So I placed my order for a large basket of fries and a rootbeer. I got my sketchbook out and started sketching the chiseled jaw of Eric Northman before I had even realized what I was doing. As I was adding my favorite detail of the divet of his chin, I realized what I was doing, and I slammed my sketchbook shut, frustrated with myself.

I sat and stared out the window for a while instead. I people watched and imagined the lives they led. The man with a cajun accent came in to pick up a large sandwich order, apparently for the whole work crew. As he stood around waiting, he came to talk to me. 

“Hey, cheré. You new in town?” He asked me in a friendly tone.

“Yeah. I’m Jane Compton.” I told him. It made sense to get on good terms with the locals. 

“Compton? Like uh, the vampire, Bill Compton?” He asked. 

The impulse to roll my eyes was strong, but I resisted. 

“He’s my ancestor,” I told him. 

He looked at me askance. “Huh. That’s, uh, interestin’.” 

The waitress came out with my fries and his sandwiches. 

“Nice meetin’ you.” He said as he grabbed the food and left. 

My fries were good and hot, and I appreciated the contrast of the root beer’s sweetness and the fries’ saltiness. I licked my fingers clean when I was done and left a small tip on the table. It was still early, and I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do before I went to Fangtasia to talk to Eric Northman. I drove around the town, and I found it much cuter than I had when I first drove through. I spent some time driving through back roads and exploring the fraying edges of the town. 

I slowed down when I saw caution tape put around a torn-up trailer. Trees had been pulled up, and the entire place looked like it had been thrashed. I rolled down my window to talk to the deputy that was there. 

“Hello. Can I ask what happened here?”

“Well, we think it was maybe a tornado. Crushed two people in the house.” He said with a lisp.

I looked at the damage. I found the way the tree was bent particularly fascinating, and I wished I had a camera to take a picture of it so I could sketch it later. It all seemed very localized to one spot. 

“Seems kinda compact to be a tornado,” I said idly. 

“Yeah, well, there’s some other theories too. That’s why it’s still a crime scene.” He explained.

I nodded. “Oh. Okay. Thank you.” I said, and I rolled my window up and drove away. 

What did they think had done that? If not a tornado, then...what? My mind immediately thought of Bill covered in blood. Could he have done that? I didn’t really know how strong vampires were or what other abilities they had. Could all vampires fly like the first one I met? 

I parked my car near an empty field, got out, and laid on the hood. My mind wandered as I watched the sky turn to the deep blue velvety night, and then as it slowly began to fill with tiny pinpricks of stars. I liked it here, in the country, the sky was so much bigger to me here. It filled my entire mind. The whole sky was visible to me. It made me feel simultaneously insignificant and important, a strange contradiction of knowing how small I was in the universe and how connected I was to something as large and as vast as the heavens above me. 

Night had fallen fully, and I realized that I should probably start driving to Fangtasia. I got back in the car, and the drive went by quickly. Once I had arrived and parked, I looked down to see the whites of my knuckles as I gripped the steering wheel, and my entire body felt tense and taut. What was I doing? I didn’t need that old house. I should leave. I should go back to my tiny apartment in Dallas and stop chasing this idea of finding something more. I should stop thirsting for a taste of what I had that night on that wooden bench. What the fuck was wrong with me? 

I went to get out my sketchbook, and instead of looking at my list of questions, I looked at the sketch of my silver-eyed vampire. I traced the slope of his mouth with my finger. What should I do? Should I keep pushing, searching, putting myself at risk to try to recapture a feeling, a connection to the unknown? Could I really stop myself now?

No. I couldn’t. 

Closing my sketchbook and putting it in my bag, I walked up to the door. The same vampire that carded me before was there, and she let me in without needing to see my ID again. She watched me with a raised eyebrow and a flirtatious smile. She gave me the feeling of someone who was watching something that they thought was amusing, if not ridiculous. I tried to put her expression out of my mind as I went into the darkened club, and I looked to the throne, but he wasn’t there. 

“He’s out.” The blonde vampire at the door told me dryly.

“Umm...will he be back later?” I asked her. 

“I’m not sure.” She replied, her voice even and disinterested. 

“Do you think if I left him my number that, you could, maybe give it to him?” I replied. 

She looked at me as if this was a major inconvenience. 

“Sure, Sugar.” She said. I pulled out my sketchbook and ripped the corner off a blank page. I wrote my number down and handed it to her, and she folded it neatly and put it in her cleavage. I guess it would be safe there. 

“Thank you,” I told her, and then as quickly as I could without appearing to run, I left. 

Getting back into my car, I released the breath I had been holding. I drove away, back to Bon Temps, and impulsively stopped at the strange bar, Merlotte’s. After the ups and downs I had tonight, I decided that I would have one drink, even though I wasn’t much of a drinker, and then go back to my motel. Parking in the gravel parking lot, I walked in and went straight to the bar. The bartender was reading a book, and I knew how engrossing an important text could be, so I didn’t interrupt her. I smiled at her when she looked up, and I tried to read the spine of her book. 

“What can I get you?” She asked. 

“Can I have a Tequila Sunrise, please?” I felt like looking at the ombre effect of the colors. Maybe it would be calming. 

“Sure thang.” She replied and then started mixing my drink. “You new in town?”

“I’m trying to be, but I don’t really know yet,” I told her honestly. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Well, I thought I had inherited a house, but apparently there’s a vampire already livin’ in it.” 

“Vampire Bill?” She asked

“The very one.” 

“Well damn, just one more reason not to trust him.” She said as she put the drink down in front of me. 

“What do you mean?” I asked as I admired the gradient color of the drink.

The bartender shook her head. “He’s just way too interested in a friend of mine, that’s all. He was over at her house tonight, ‘callin’ on her’ and doing this whole southern gentleman act. You know his family actually owned slaves?” She said, and I felt myself flood with white guilt: his family...my family.

“Oh,” I said in response. “I didn’t know that. That’s...just…” I couldn’t finish. I felt sick. 

“Yeah. I know.” She replied flippantly. I liked her a lot. She didn’t have a filter, and it made me trust her more. She wasn’t going to hold back on what she thought. 

“So the Compton house, that’s supposed to be yours?” 

“Mmm hmm,” I told her as I sipped my drink. 

“Well, how are you gonna’ get it from him?” 

“I have a plan, but it’s...not the best solution,” I told her, the alcohol loosening my lips. 

“Oh god. What dumb white bitch plan are you gonna do?” She asked, and I laughed.

“You mean like being chased through a house by a serial killer and running up the stairs instead of out the front door?” I asked. 

She shook her head. “Normally, I’d say yes, but...we’ve actually had a murder here recently.”

I blanched. “Really?”

“Yeah, Maudette Pickens, she was strangled.” The bartender said

“Oh. I didn’t know. I wasn’t...you know, joking about her or anything.”

She waved me off. “What is it that you’re gonna do?” She asked, instead.

I looked around. I saw the man with the Cajun accent kissing a redheaded waitress, and a few other folks were around, but no one really seemed to be listening to my conversation with the bartender. 

“I figure I have to fight fire with fire. I’ve found another vampire that says he can get Vampire Bill to leave my house.” 

She looked at me blankly. “What’s the catch?”

“He wants me to be ‘his’ and let him drink my blood.” 

“Aw hell no!” She responded, throwing her rag down on the bar. “Look, I just met you, but you seem like a sweet girl. You should not be lettin’ no vampire bite you and drink your blood!” She said loudly enough that the whole bar turned to stare.

“Thank you for the loud and unsolicited advice, local angry barkeep!” I sniped back. “But I don’t really think that it’s any of your business.” I downed the rest of my drink in one go, and slammed some money on the bar, and walked out. 

I was perplexed by my sudden anger. That wasn’t really like me. I grumbled to myself and walked down the steps. I was digging in my purse for my keys as I tripped down the stairs. I fell, nearly skinning my knees. Suddenly there was a man there. He hauled me up on my feet. 

“Hey there, whoa.” He said. He had a quick, charming smile and shaggy silver-streaked hair. “You probably shouldn’t be drivin’ if you’re trippin’ on the stairs.”

“I’m fine. I only had one drink. I just wasn’t paying attention.” I told him. 

“Why don’t you come back in and sit down a spell.” He offered kindly.

I look back into the bar with all the people and noises. And judgemental stares.“Thanks, but I’ve already embarrassed myself and had an argument with the bartender, so I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Tara? I knew she’d be trouble when I hired her.” He said, shaking his head. “I’m Sam Merlotte, and this here is my bar.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam Merlotte. I’m Jane Compton.” 

“Compton? As is in…” He started, and I was already tired of this.

“Yeah, the vampire is my ancestor.” 

“Wow, that’s uh…” He trailed off. 

“It’s weird. We’re actually not on the best of terms.” I said, deciding not to explain the whole house situation to him. “Thanks for the help. I’m going to go now.”

“Hey, let me at least walk you to your car.” He offered, and I accepted. I didn't say anything as we walked, but I could see him watching me. I pushed my hair behind my ear self consciously. I was trying not to be nervous. I wasn’t used to men wanting to talk to me and walk me to my car. We stopped, and he pointed at my license plate. “You from Texas?” 

“Yeah, I’m...well, I’m trying to move here,” I said.

He smiled at that. “That’s...that’s great. I’ve lived all over, and I have to say...Bon Temps is a real special place.”

There’s a moment of silence, and I heard the clinking and chatter from the bar inside, and I felt the warm, humid summer hang around us, and I smelled the clean, fresh scent of his aftershave. It was a nice moment. 

“There is something about this place, isn’t there?” I told him.

His smile is genuine. “There really is.” 

I opened my car door and got inside. 

“Thank you, Mr. Merlotte, for walking me to my car.” 

“No problem, an’ you can call me Sam.” He said.

“Thanks, Sam.” He nodded, and I closed my car door. He walked back to the bar, and I drove back to the motel. When I got inside, I cleaned up my scuffed knees, and I decided that I needed to get out, to get closer to something divine. I didn’t like this feeling inside me, eating away at me. I changed into leggings, a hoodie, and my sneakers. I got in my car and drove north, and took a turn for an area called Bear Creek. I went down the dirt road until I found a spot that people had obviously parked in before. I got out and followed a trail that led to a dock.

I sat on the dock. I looked out over the smooth reflective surface of the creek. What was out there? My mind started spinning a web of an underwater world of all the animals and creatures that lived just below the surface. Their own lives are as complicated as mine. Their rules and hierarchies are intricate and based on thousands of years of evolution and time. I couldn’t understand it—the richness of the world. 

Perhaps that was what scared me most about the world of vampires. That I couldn’t see beneath the surface. I didn’t know the rules. It was as dangerous as jumping into this dark water right now. I didn’t know what was in there. The unknown. I knew that I was losing my grip when I did just that. I stripped off my too warm hoodie. I rolled down my leggings, I deftly removed my shirt and bra, and jumped right into the smooth black water. 

Once I was in, I felt great. I had no fear. I floated and splashed, and I looked up at the stars. What had I been so afraid of? Of the unknown? Of what lay beneath the surface? I swam until I couldn’t anymore, and I pulled myself out and sat on the dock and waited for my skin to dry. I needed to live this type of life, one that pushed me, one that made me question and demand more. More. I wanted it all. I wanted to dive into the river and live in the darkness of the water.

I laid down on the dock and closed my eyes and listened to the sounds around me, and without even meaning to, I had fallen asleep on the dock. 

_ “This is rather risky, isn’t it?” I told my silver-eyed vampire.  _

_ He splashed me playfully in the water. “There’s no reward without the risk.” He replied.  _

When I opened my eyes, the sun was rising, and I was still just lying topless on the dock. I stood up, and I saw a boat coming into view. It had a man wearing yellow aviator sunglasses on it, and he was clearly surprised to see a topless woman standing on the dock. I snatched up all my clothes, and high tailed it back to my car to get dressed. 

I laughed out loud at myself. This was what I wanted. Adventures in the dark. Mystery and wonder and risk. After putting my shirt and leggings on, I went back to the motel to get some actual sleep. The lumpy motel bed actually felt comfortable compared to the dock, and I drifted off almost immediately. I woke late in the afternoon, feeling completely rested and happy. Content. My mind settled. After a quick shower, I dressed in a soft white rose-patterned dress that I loved the feel of. The fabric was so soft and light against my skin. I hesitated and decided against putting my necklace on. It felt wrong somehow, wearing it, knowing I was going to let another vampire bite me. 

In the dying light of the day, I drove over to my future house. I got out and admired the ivy growing over the facade, the way the columns stood, tall and proud as if over a century of time hadn’t passed. I had a sense of wistfulness. I was going to make this house mine. The day was fading fast now, and I didn’t want to have any encounters with Grandpa Bill until I had my agreement all worked out with Eric Northman. I got back into my car, and I checked my crappy little minute by minute flip phone to see that I had a text message from an unknown number.

_ Come tonight. I will be here. _

I took a deep breath. I was ready.

*****

Eric’s POV -  _ Night of Thursday, June 18th, 2009 _

I was so fucking done with being a Sheriff. If it weren’t required by the fucking Authority, I would have certainly quit by now. Sophie Ann called all of the Sheriffs to her ridiculous day room to see if we knew anything about who killed Reverend Newlin, his wife, and his newborn baby. I suspected that Stan Davis, in Godric’s area, had something to do with it, but I wasn’t going to give Sophie Ann anything. I disapproved of some of my fellow vampires’ rampant blood lust and violence, but I wasn’t about to become a mainstreamer. Living on synthetic bottled blood for eternity sounded like a fate worse than death.

“That little AB neg baby came back, left me with this for you,” Pam told me when I finally got back to our nest, just an hour before dawn. She handed me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. 

Jane. Excellent. 

I would text her tomorrow. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on who it was. Her peculiar way of getting my attention was rather ingenious, but her rare blood and tiny but curvy body had me hooked before I even knew she was a talented artist. I was going to get her drawing of me framed and hung in the bar. It was excellent, and part of me felt I could even sell prints of it and make even more money. 

Little AB negative artist. Yes, I would get Bill Compton out of my area, and I would get a lovely little companion to entertain me for a while. It was a win-win. I had not claimed a human since Sylvie, over three decades ago, and I wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. This is just a convenient arrangement, nothing more. 

When I woke from my day's rest, I showered and dressed quickly in black clothes. It was easy to look like a vampire these days. Just dress in black. So simple. Pamela and I went to the bar, and Ginger had already opened, and the vermin were starting to trickle in. I did some work in my office for a while. Checking last night's receipts, which I hadn’t had a chance to do. I texted little Jane telling her to come tonight. That would give me something to look forward to. 

Pam came in and told me that I should be on display now. Fine. I would entertain the masses. I would let them leer at my mere presence. I sat on the throne and played Tetris on my phone, passing the time as I waited. Bored, bored, so bored. I watched the women come into the bar, eyeing their luscious curves. Women, so many beautiful, delicious women. Good thing I had eternity.

Then in walks the little AB negative angel, looking as sweet and corruptible as I could have hoped. Her long silken blonde hair was pulled back to expose the graceful smooth column of her neck, and her dress showed off the shape of her clavicles nicely. I found my mouth watering and my fangs ready to drip anticoagulant at the thought of getting to taste her. My eyes wandered to the swell of her perky breasts and the ridiculous thinness of her waist that flared out to her hips and round ass. She was gorgeous. 

She walked calmly up to my dais and sat next to me smoothly as if she had done it a thousand times. The regular goth group and fans of fang gaped at her as she did that so casually. I thought that I would hear her tiny dove heart pounding, but she seemed perfectly calm. What an audacious little breather. I liked her more already. 

“Hello, Mr. Northman.” She said softly. 

I inclined my head to her. 

“Have you thought about my offer?” I replied.

She smiled a small smile. “I have. And I have some questions.”

Smart. That was good. 

“Very well.” I got up, and she followed me back to the office again. I sat behind the desk and leaned back to observe her. She was looking at me with her wide blue-green eyes. I got the feeling that she was trying to figure something out about me, and then she came to a conclusion. She got out a small notebook. 

“If I’m yours...are you mine?” She reads from her list. “I guess, what is the nature of the relationship?”

“Vampires claim. Humans cannot claim. The nature of the relationship depends upon those who are in it. Some humans find that they want to be a pet or a slave, but as for the nature of our relationship...You would be my...associate.”

“Okay. What does it mean to other vampires if I’m yours?” 

A very astute question. “They would not be able to touch you, feed from you, or harm you without facing my wrath. And it is a considerable one.” 

She grinned a little at that. “Would you expect to have sex with me?” She asked, and I saw her blood deliciously flush her cheeks all the way down to her neck.

“Expect?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “In my experience, women that I feed from expect to have sex with me.” 

She looked away uncomfortably, and I was struck by the idea that she might be innocent. “But it wouldn’t be part of our agreement because I’m not...comfortable with that.”

“Sex would be completely on your terms when you’re ready.” I leaned over and tilted her chin to meet my eyes. “That I promise you.” 

She nodded, accepting that with a swallow. 

“What would you expect then?” She asked. It was obvious that she was considering it very seriously. Excellent.

“That we would work out an arrangement to meet two or three times a week.”

“So that you can drink my blood?” She clarified.

“Yes,” I responded. “So, I can feed from you.” 

She nodded. “But I wouldn’t be, like, on-call? I could make plans, and I wouldn’t have to drop everything if you decided you needed a snack?” 

I chuckled. “No.” 

“So the hypnotism thing..”

“Glamouring.” 

“Oh. That’s what it’s called?” She asked curiously.

“Yes.”

“Would you do that to me?” I could tell that this was perhaps her most concerned question of all, and I thought about how to answer it. 

“Jane, there is some knowledge that you might become privy to by merely being in my presence. For example, if I invite you to my home and I show you my security system. Your mind would be open to any vampire that would want that information if I did not glamour you to keep it a secret. There may be times that I require that you are glamoured to keep something secret, but I will always explain to you the reason why.” 

She was silent for a moment. “You won’t give me a choice, though, on if I want to be glamoured?”

“It’s just too dangerous,” I replied. “For both myself and for you.” 

I watched her take that in. She was weighing that. “You wouldn’t make me forget anything, though?”

“Not unless you asked.” There were some things I wish I could forget. 

She stared at me hard then, and for a moment, I thought she would refuse that the idea that I will need to glamour her will be too much loss of control for her to handle. 

“Why did you humor me with all of this?” She asked. “Couldn’t you have just...glamoured me into being yours?”

She was clever. She was trying to figure me out. I found myself massively entertained. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” I replied, instead.

“You know, once, when I was a kid, I had this video game. And I really loved it. It was really hard and challenging. I finally got to a level that I just ...couldn’t get past. So I found these codes that you could put in, and it let me get past the level, and it was just so...disappointing. Like I got something that didn’t earn.”

So she did understand. A strange analogy, but accurate. 

“Well, Miss Jane Compton, are you going to agree to be mine?” 

“You’re going to get Bill out of my house still, right?”

I look at the clock. “I wouldn’t have time tonight, but tomorrow I should be able to.”

She nodded. Her blue-green eyes meet mine. “Then, yes. I agree to be yours.” 

I grinned at her broadly. Her heart thudded, and Pam burst in. 

“The vermin are getting restless.” She stated.

I glared at her. “Pam, this is Jane. She is mine. Jane, this is my progeny Pam.”

“What does that mean? Progeny?” She asked.

“I made her vampire,” I told her, and Pam rolled her eyes. 

I gave Pam a look. “We will be out soon,” I told her, and she left, closing the door. 

“So you made her a vampire? Is she your...wife?” Jane asked.

“Pam and I have not been intimate since I turned her a hundred years ago. She found that she prefers the fairer sex. The bond between a Maker and their Progeny is not able to be described in human terms. There is no equivalent. The bond is stronger than mother and child than husband and wife; Pam is...my family.” I explained, and she looks a bit stunned. 

There was a silence while I watched her process all of that. I stared at her, and she looked...delicious. Jane noticed my gaze; she took in my look and then asked. “Are you...are you going to bite me now?” I saw her trying to suppress her concern. She wasn’t exactly scared, but I knew she wasn’t comfortable enough yet, and this wasn’t how I wanted to start this with her.

“No. I would like to ask you to sit on my lap on the throne. It will put my scent on you and let other vampires see that I have claimed you as mine.” 

She nodded. “Okay. I guess I have a lot to learn about...vampire culture.”

She followed me down the hall, and I went back up to my throne. She hesitated in front of me. I pulled her easily by her small waist onto my lap, and she made a small “Eep!” sound. I couldn’t help but chuckle, and I felt her body shiver as the rumble of my laughter vibrated against her. This was quite fun. I kept my hands on her waist. My hands were so large compared to her small body, and I could almost wrap them all the way around. I could feel all of her ribs, and I wondered if she got enough to eat. I used one hand and brushed her hair off her neck to scent her skin. She smells of roses, her delicious fresh rare AB negative blood, something extraordinarily pure and wild, and like river water. What had she been doing? 

I heard her heartbeat skitter as I pressed my face to her neck. She was still so nervous. I needed to distract her for a bit. 

“Why do you smell like river water?” I asked her. 

“You can smell that? But I… took a shower.” She said.

“Yes, and you used rose-scented shampoo.” I sniffed her hair. 

She mulled on that. “Is it anagonzing or wonderful to sense so much?” 

I remembered when I had first turned, and everything felt as if it was too much. I could see too much, smell too much, and the hearting...there was a din of ever-present noise, and that was before modern times with constantly buzzing lights and electronics. Now, I supposed I was used to it. But it did make it hard to find peace...thus why the nest was soundproofed. 

“I got used to it,” I told her. “Now, river water runs on your skin, and I want to know why.” 

Her eyes scanned the crowd, and I watched the regulars stare at her with jealousy. I had never brought a human into my lap before. I had allowed them to join me on the dais in their own chair, but Jane was the first I had placed here. The other vampires noted her with the correct level of fear and respect. They would not touch her. 

“I went swimming last night, in a creek I found.” She said simply.

“Alone?” I asked. It seemed rather dangerous for a tiny female human to be swimming at night alone.

“No, I was with the entire universe.” 

I rolled my eyes, thankful I was behind her where she couldn’t see. She sounded like Godric. 

“You had no companion? You swam in a creek alone at night?” I made sure.

“Yes.” 

My hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, and her breath hitched. She was quite sensitive. 

“Why do all of the vampires here fear you?” She asked next, and I was surprised that she had picked up on that. Not many humans were able to read vampires very well. 

“I am the Sheriff of our region. I keep the peace and enforce laws amongst our kind. They fear me because of my power.” 

She nodded thoughtfully. I felt her muscles start to relax some, and she leaned back slightly against me, and I was pleased to see that she was becoming more comfortable. 

“There’s going to be a problem with those two.” She said, and I followed her eyes to two vampires. 

Kate and her Maker Henry had just walked in, and I could tell from their body language that there had been a recent disagreement. 

“How can you tell?” I asked her. Most humans would have read them as impassive. 

“She looks...thirsty. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else, like this place grosses him out. I can just tell she’s going to do something he isn’t going to like.” She explained astutely.

“Perhaps,” I replied. She had a skill for seeing things. 

She leaned her head back against my shoulder. She was much calmer now. 

“What did you notice about me? When you were drawing me?” I asked, curious, now that I see she’s so observant. 

“You’re like a caged lion. You weren’t meant to be kept in domesticity. You’re bored here.” She replied. “You survey this place like it’s your own personal fiefdom, and you look down upon the rabble. You don’t particularly like humans, or anyone, except for maybe Pam.” 

That was rather disturbing, and I wished I hadn’t asked. I didn’t like that she had understood me so well just from watching me for an evening. 

“Although you do like to look at the women.” She added. “All different kinds of them, but not as people, as objects de art.” 

She pronounced it the french way with so much accuracy I wondered if she speaks French. 

“Hmmm…” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Why are you in my lap then? If you think so little of me?”

“I didn’t say it was wrong. I just told you what I saw. I don’t particularly like being around a lot of people either, so I get that. Appreciating the beauty of women doesn’t make you a bad person. I appreciate beauty everywhere. For example, do you see that woman over there, near the bar, the natural auburn hair?” 

I looked and spotted her. She was drinking a glass of red wine with her friends. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about her. Her hair was nice, her body average. 

“What of her?” 

“Wait until she smiles.” 

We watched her a little longer, and one of her friends said something that made her face break out into a wide grin that suddenly transformed her into a beauty. Her smile reached her green eyes, and her cheeks dimpled, and the freckles danced on her face with her laughter. 

“See? She’s beautiful, and we can appreciate it.” 

“So, we’re going to start objectifying women in the name of art?” 

She laughed a tinkling bell laugh that surprised me. How does anyone laugh that way? She made it sound like music. 

“What do you notice about this woman, the upfront here at this table?” She asked me next.

At first glance, I thought she was quite attractive. Hourglass figure, long curled brown hair highlighted with blond. 

“Hot,” I told her. 

“Keep watching.”

The longer I watched, the more I saw. She kept looking around as if scoping the place out, and when vampires would walk by, she smiled at them flirtatiously but immediately stopped once they were gone. She checked her phone almost constantly and pulled out a compact mirror to check her makeup. The longer I watched her, the less appealing she became. Her hourglass figure was clearly bought and made of plastic, her highlights faked. She was like a painting that looked wonderful from a distance, but when you got closer, it turned out to just be random splotches of paint. 

“That’s rather disappointing,” I whispered to her. 

She grinned at me cheekily. “I know, right?” 

The night wore on, and we made observations about the people in the bar. I found that I enjoyed her company. She wasn’t obsessed with asking me questions about being a vampire, and she didn’t give any indication that she was interested in vampires, whether blood or turning. I enjoyed it immensely after dealing with the types that the bar usually attracts. Kate and Henry did end up having a big blow out, and I had to boot them outside. When I returned, Jane was standing next to the throne with a knowing little smile, and then I pulled her back into my lap. 

Longshadow announced last call, and I still held Jane against my lap. “I like this place more than I thought I would,” Jane told me.

“Why’s that?” 

She hesitated a moment. “I don’t usually like bars, but I had fun tonight. It was like we got to see into the heads and stories of all the different kinds of folks that came in. It was like looking into a pointillism painting and trying to determine the exact shade of a single dot. And then another, and another, and I finally feel like after looking at all the dots tonight that I have better feel for the whole painting, for this place.”

She was strange, but oddly enough, I knew what she meant. The people that came here were what made Fangtasia run, and it took all kinds. 

“You’re odd,” I tell her, as a compliment. 

“No, I’m perfectly normal. Plain Jane.” She replied, completely unaware of how unusual she is. 

“Jane, I have been walking this earth for over a thousand years. You are odd, but all the best ones are.” 

“A thousand years?” She asked. “Oh my.” Her heart pounded harder than I had heard from her. 

“Does that frighten you?” I asked her, and I thought I had just made her comfortable. 

“No.” She replied, and then I saw that her neck had flushed with her blood again. She was...aroused? By my age? And she thought she wasn’t odd. The bar was empty, and Pam came up.

“I’m going to the nest.” She told me in Swedish. “Have fun with your new toy.”

“Careful Pam,” I told her, also in Swedish. She gave me a raised eyebrow and then left. 

“What language was that?” She asked. 

“Swedish,” I told her. 

She nodded. She took in the empty room. 

“Turn and face me,” I told her, and she did as I asked, straddling me on the throne. 

I took in her blue-green eyes, and they were wide with curiosity. “You said you gave you blood once before? Tell me about that.”

The look that graced her face was one that was hard to describe, and I immediately became jealous of whoever it was that caused her to have such an expression. 

“Ummm...it was. It’s hard to explain. I just met him, and we talked. He was hungry, and I let him bite me. He was...gentle and kind.”

“Did you have sex with him?” I asked, more out of jealousy than anything else. 

“No, but he gave me a kiss.” She said, and she blushed again. Gods, all the blood rushing to her skin made me salivate. 

“I’m going to bite you now, and I’ll be gentle too.” 

“Okay.” She breathed out. 

I leaned in and licked the skin of her neck. It would help prepare her skin for the puncture as it had mild analgesic properties. She tasted delicious. Of river water and roses and something that was just...her. Her heart pounded like a drum, and her body temperature rose beneath my hands quickly. I brought my hands up higher on her little rib cage. Gods, if I wasn’t careful, I could break her; she was so tiny. I snicked my fangs out and scraped them lightly against her throat, and she ground herself against my lap as if unable to stop the automatic impulse of her body to move against mine. Oh...she liked it. I moved my hands down to her hips so that I could feel her grinding against me better. 

Gently I pressed my teeth against her puncturing the skin of her neck just slightly with the tips of my fangs, and she moaned, a true, genuine, uncontrived moan that shot straight to my groin and hardened my cock against her. Fuck. I had not expected this from her. She seemed so innocent and sweet. I hadn’t expected her to writhe and moan against my fangs. I released my fangs from the small puncture, and I allowed my mouth and lips to work against her neck to suck the blood from either side of her jugular. Her blood was extraordinary. AB negative was always a rare treat, but there was something more to her taste. It was pure, with a wild earthiness to it that I had never tasted before. With each pull I took from her, she mewled and wriggled, moving against me in the same rhythm that I was using to drink her delicious rare blood.

I continued to drink from her, and her muscles became tense, poised. She was going to peak? From my bite? Unable to help myself, I slid my fangs back out and punctured her a little deeper, and she wailed, her muscles spasming, her heartbeat going wild, her chest flushed pink, clearly climaxing in my lap. Her blood was filled with endorphins, and I drank deeply, surprised, and elated. 

What. The. Fuck.

I released my fangs from her neck and licked her neck over so the bite would hurt less and heal more quickly. I listened to her recover. Her breathing returned to normal, and her heartbeat went back to its steady thudding. I had never had a human come from my bite alone. I could make them come with some well-timed movements of my cock or hands along with the bite, but from a little bit of grinding and just a soft bite? 

Unheard of.

“Oh. I’m...so sorry.” She said, getting off my lap and hiding her face in her hands. 

She was embarrassed. It was darling. 

“I’m impressed by my prowess, never had I made someone come with my bite alone,” I told her, and I could smell the heady sweet scent of her arousal. It made me crave her body. 

“That happened the last time I was bit too, and I thought maybe it was just a fluke. I should have warned you.” Jane mumbled through her hands. 

I tried to suppress my jealousy. So it wasn’t just me that caused this reaction. It was that she got off on the bite. I stood, and I realized that she had got my lap damp. She came so hard that her release soaked through her panties and onto my slacks. Holy fuck. 

“I’m so sorry.” She said, finally uncovering her face. 

I swallowed uselessly. She was sorry? What was this creature?

“Don’t apologize,” I said, not understanding her at all.

“Oh. Okay.” She said, clearly still very embarrassed. “Did you get enough blood?”

I looked at her lasciviously. “For now,” I replied. “Can you come out to the bar tomorrow? I will come back with you to Bon Temps and take care of the intruder in your home after the bar closes.” 

She smiled, suddenly happy. “Okay. Yes, I can come out tomorrow. My schedule is pretty open right now because I’m on summer break.” 

“Well, thank you for the delightful and surprising evening. I have enjoyed the process of claiming you thus far.” I tell her as I walk her out. Her car was parked rather far away, and I walked her out to it. 

“Uh...you’re welcome, I guess. Sorry..you know, um, your pants.” She blushed even harder. So delicious.

“Please don’t apologize. It was a very...satisfying reaction.” I told her. 

She turned. “Look, I don’t want us to get our signals crossed here. I’m not the type of person that has sex with someone just because of the physical pleasure of the act.” 

I raised my eyebrow. Where was she going with this?

“I...I don’t plan on having sex with you. I can’t do friends with benefits or associates with benefits or whatever we’re going to call this.” 

I nodded. I was struggling to understand. 

“You’re...saving yourself then? For what, marriage?” I tried to clarify. 

“No. I mean, I have had sex, once before.” She had only had sex once? “To be honest, it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be, and I need...connection. Deep connection.” She explained. She may as well be a virgin for all the experience she had. 

“So, you want to be in love?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. 

She rolled her eyes at me. “I can tell you don’t get it, and that’s fine, but...I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea, you know, based on what just happened.”

I opened her car door for her, and she got inside. 

“Well, you can reserve the right to change your mind,” I told her with as much innuendo as I could muster. 

She laughed like little bells chiming. “Goodnight, Mr. Northman.”

I closed the door, and she drove away. 

Well, I did enjoy a challenge. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a huge thanks to my beta reader FumiyoSenka. She volunteered right away and has already been invaluable in making this story higher quality, more interesting, and accurate. Truly wonderful!

Chap 4

Jane’s POV - _Friday, June 19th, 2009_

When I woke the next day, I examined my neck in the mirror. I had two small red dots on my neck that looked at least a week old, not just one night. That had happened before, with my first vampire too. I wondered if they had something on their fangs that made it heal magically faster. I thought about covering it up with makeup, but I didn’t want it to get infected. I hadn’t packed any scarves or anything either, so I was just going to have to wear the marks proudly. 

I dressed in another sundress, my favorite thing to wear in the heat. I stared at the small hammer necklace, so warm and somehow heavy in my hand, as silver-gray eyes and a beautiful smile teased the corners of my vision. Frowning, I shook my head and placed the necklace in my bag - no, it was a piece of a sacred moment that I wasn’t ready to share with Eric yet, if ever. I decided to go back to Merlotte’s, as the other diner didn’t really have anything that I could eat. I felt a rising excitement. I would be getting my house back tonight! I had held up my end of the deal, and now he would hold up his. I pulled into the parking lot and got out. 

The blonde mind-reading waitress wasn’t there, but a bottle redhead who looked at my neck with derision led me to a table. She slapped a menu down in front of me and then ran off to try to take care of another table that was shouting for a check. Was she the only one working? That hardly seemed fair. I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was just stressed. I flipped through the menu and decided on the chef’s salad sans meat, eggs, and cheese. And a sweet tea. 

I had to wait a long time for her to get back to me, but it was hardly her fault. 

“Sorry about the wait. The other waitress who is supposed to be workin’ hasn’t shown up for her shift,” she apologized, trying not to stare at my bite. “What can I get for you?”

“No problem. Can I have the chef’s salad, no meat, no cheese, no eggs?”

“You sure, honey, there’s not going to be much to it?” she asked to be sure.

“I’m a picky eater. If they can throw more veggies and things that don’t have anything that comes from animals on it, I’d be much obliged. And a sweet tea, please," I added politely.

“Sure thing. I’ll try to be back as soon as I can,” the redhead said as she hurried off. 

I saw Sam Merlotte rush out from the back, his face ghostly white. 

“Dawn didn’t come in ‘cause she was murdered just like Maudette,” he told the redheaded waitress.

“What?!” she exclaimed, and the whole bar went silent. 

“Strangled in her apartment. I gotta go down there, Sook...she was the one who found her,” he said and ran out. As soon as he left, the bar exploded with sound as patrons leaned in towards each other to whisper loudly and weave stories of what could have happened. 

Another murder. Dawn was strangled in the same way - a serial killer. I swallowed. Was I sure I wanted to live here? 

My waitress finally came out with my salad. “I brought you the vinaigrette. It’s the only dressing without dairy, and Terry, the chef, put some more veggies on the salad for you.” 

I looked down and saw that they had completely loaded the salad with all kinds of veggies, some nuts, olives, and artichoke hearts. 

“Oh, wow! This is amazing! Tell the chef thank you for me, please?” I said, and I saw a man’s face peek out from the kitchen serving window and then quickly hide again. 

“I will,” she said shortly. Then she rushed off again. 

A large woman wearing a lot of makeup suddenly rushed in and announced to the whole bar, “They arrested Jason Stackhouse!”

That apparently meant a lot to the people in the bar, and they started gossiping and chatting even with even more excitement. I enjoyed my delicious salad, although my waitress had forgotten entirely about my sweet tea. When she came with my check, she realized it. 

“Can you just owe me one? That way, you don’t have to ring it up again?” I asked her. 

“Sure. You a local now?” she asked, her eyes straying to my neck. 

“I’m hoping to become one. We’ll see,” I replied. “But, I’ll definitely be back for another salad, and I left a little extra tip, and I was hoping that you could make sure that the chef sees some of it?” I asked with a smile.

“Oh, of course.” She noticed that I left her a generous tip as well. “Say, what’s your name?”

“I’m Jane Compton,” I told her and waited for the inevitable. 

“Compton?! Did he bite you? His own kin?” She looked outraged. 

“Ugh, ick, no!” I replied automatically. 

“Oh!” she said awkwardly, embarrassed by her outburst. “Just..you never know with these vampires…” 

“No, I’m not really into the vampire thing. It’s a complicated story about how I got bit,” I explained. 

“I thought you seemed too sweet to be one of them fang bangers going to that vamp bar...Dawn and Maudette went there, and they both ended up dead,” she warned me. 

I stood to leave, done talking to this judgemental woman. “Well, thanks for lunch, and I won’t forget about that sweet tea,” I told her, and she smiled at me as I left. 

This town was a little crazy. I was starting to get a better feel for that now. Two murders in a week? I went back to my motel room and packed up all of my things so that when I came back, all I would have to do was grab my suitcase and check out. I had been staying up so late and sleeping so late that it was now almost four o’clock. 

I decided to go back out to Bear Creek to watch the sunset, and I pulled on a hoodie over my dress to keep myself from being eaten alive by bugs. I slipped off my little white sandals and dangled my feet off the dock. 

“Hey!” a man's voice called from behind me. 

I turned. It was the man with the yellow aviators - the one who was out fishing when I was topless on the dock.

“Hello,” I called back, and he froze in response.

“Are you real?” he asked. “Cuz’ sometimes I see things that ain’t there, but it’s never been a pretty little blonde girl before.” 

“I’m as real as any of us, I suppose,” I told him, and he walked closer. 

“Were you out here on the dock the other mornin’?” he asked. 

“Uh...yeah, I was,” I told him, a little embarrassed. 

“What were you doing out here, at four am, naked? Not that I blame yah, I’ve done that before,” he said, and he sat down next to me. 

I laughed. “Well, I actually was out swimming the night before, and then while I was waiting to dry, I fell asleep on the dock here,” I explained. 

“Oh. That’s good. I’m glad you're not a hallucination. I thought maybe you were until I saw you at the bar today.”

I thought. “You’re the chef. You’re Terry.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, and it was then that I could tell that he was former military. And that maybe he had some...scars. 

“That was the best salad I have ever had. And I eat a lot of salads,” I told him, and he blushed, embarrassed. “No, it’s true!” I exclaimed, feeling somewhat embarrassed myself. I shifted on the dock, mulling over our mutual embarrassment… and then nearly fell off the dock and into the water. Terry thankfully grabbed me by the arms before I did. 

“Hold on there,” he said as he pulled me back up. 

“Thanks.” 

Terry and I sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet moment and shared company. I liked his energy - it was soothing. 

“It’s nice here.” 

“Yeah.”

The night fell around us. I heard frogs start to croak, and crickets begin to chirp.

This was fun,” I told him as I stood. “Bye, Terry.”

“Yeah, bye!” he said as I started to walk away. “Wait!” he suddenly called out when I almost reached the end of the dock. 

"What is it?” I asked. 

“I want to show you somethin’,” he pulled a necklace out from under his shirt; it looked like a wishbone. “It’s from a possum. They have a two-pronged penis.” 

I tilted my head at him to see if this was some sort of joke, but he seemed genuine and serious. “That’s really cool, Terry!” I told him, and he beamed at me. His smile warmed me from the inside out, like when my elementary students would show me their art, and they would be so darn proud of themselves that I just couldn’t help but be proud too.

“I think it’s lucky,” he explained to me. “You want me to get you one?” 

“Only if you come across a possum that has met its fate due to natural causes.” I grinned at him, and he nodded thoughtfully. “Goodnight, Terry.”

“Goodnight...nice lady,” he said, not knowing my name.

“It’s Jane!” I yell at him over my shoulder.

“Night, Jane!” he said back, waving.

What a strange nice man. I felt like I could be his friend. He saw the world a little differently, and I liked that. He had clearly been through a lot. I drove to Shreveport, and I thought about the people I had met so far in Bon Temps. The mind-reading waitress, and the handsome bar owner, the redheaded waitress, and the angry bartender. I liked Terry the most out of all of them. He seemed nice...maybe just a little lost. 

When I got to Fangtasia, it was about half an hour after they opened. I walked in, and the crowd was small as it was pretty early. Eric’s progeny was at the door. 

“Hi, um Pam, right?” I asked her. 

“Hey, doll, he’s in the office,” she replied with her same tone of bored tolerance. 

“Thanks, Pam.” 

I walked down the hall, and I knocked on the closed office door. Eric opened it, and I could see he was on his phone. He let me in, his eyes trailing over me, and he seemed...angry? The look made me feel a little miffed myself! I tried to think of what could have happened between now and last night to make him look at me like that.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said. “I understand.” He hung up, the irritated look still on his face. Who would he call ‘your majesty’? That was weird. 

“Another man has touched you,” he accused. 

“What?” 

“Here, and here.” Eric indicated the sides of my arms. Oh! When Terry grabbed me so I wouldn’t fall in the creek. 

“So?” I asked, crossing my arms, still feeling a bit testy. “Is this some sort of weird territorial thing?” I questioned him. 

He looked away darkly. “Yes,” he replied but didn’t elaborate.

“How will I know what this means if you don’t explain it to me?”

“I will not...forbid…. you from having contact with others,” he was able to grit out. “But, I will need you not to meet with me smelling of their scent.” 

“You can smell scents on me even after I shower?” 

He nodded. “I will get you some soap that will work. I will tell you now that it is rather harsh on the skin. But it will also work on your clothes.” 

I unzipped the hoodie, and I tossed it on the floor as Eric came over and sniffed me again. 

“Better?” 

He just continued to sniff the top of my head. 

“How do you feel tonight?” he finally responded, looking at his marks on my neck. 

I hadn’t really even thought about it. “Fine. The same as always,” I responded with a light shrug. 

“Good,” he turned to his desk. “I have some work to finish up here. You’re welcome to stay or go out to the bar and get a drink.” 

I smiled. “I’ll go get a drink.” 

He paused before I left. “Jane, you should know that too much alcohol can thin the blood.” 

I think I had heard that before. “What does that mean?” 

He looked at my throat and swallowed. “It means that if I feed from you tonight, your blood will flow more freely if you drink alcohol, but it also makes it harder for your blood to clot.”

“So...would a glass of wine be okay?” I asked, thinking about what I had wanted to get.

“You should be fine with that. It’s hard alcohol that can be...dangerous,” Eric finished.

“I’m not much of a drinker.” 

“I know. It’s obvious by the taste of your blood.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or just an observation, so I turned and left. I walked down and went out to the bar. The same Native American bartender from before was there. 

“I see that you were able to get his attention,” he told me, indicating my bite.

“I guess so.”

“What would you like?” 

“A glass of white wine, please.”

I sat at the bar, sipping my wine and observing the people beginning to trickle into Fangtasia. I then noticed three vampires walk into the bar - a woman and two men. One of the men was big, with tattoos covering most of his body, even on the bare skin of his bald head, and he was wearing a grin that spelled trouble. The woman was a tall, skinny black woman with a bushy afro and full lips curled into a sneer. The other man, smaller than the first one but likely no less dangerous, had a weasley look about him and greasy slicked-back dark hair. The weasley male vampire seemed like maybe he was the leader, his sharp eyes taking in the room before landing on me. 

The weasley man smiled at me evilly and slowly slinked his way over to me at the bar, his companions following behind him with equally worrying grins on their faces. “My, my, my Northman is doing well for himself,” he drawled.

Something about him put my hackles up right away. 

The woman came over to me, right in my space but careful not to touch me, and gave me a sly look while she took a deep sniff and crooned, “Aww...look at this. Eric’s got a little AB baby”. 

“Fuck yeah! You’re a nice little piece, blondie,” the bald vampire told me as he eyed me lasciviously. 

The bartender looked at them, unimpressed. “What’ll it be?” he asked, only briefly drawing their attention away from me.

“You got any AB neg that I can have?” the woman asked as she turned back to me, “How about you, sweetie?” The woman stared at me, and I recognized the look in her eye - it was like a cat playing with a mouse. 

I swallowed, and I didn’t know how to respond. 

“Oh, look, it’s scared.” The weasley man laughed. 

Suddenly Eric rushed out from the back, and I released a breath. 

“Malcolm, Diane, Liam - I hope I don’t see you threatening what’s mine.” Eric’s power radiated off him, and I saw them all shiver. He clearly intimidated them, and it instantly made me feel more comfortable. 

“Of course not, Sheriff,” the weasel-like one, Malcolm, started. “Although, I’m surprised to see you claiming a human.” 

Eric ran his finger softly down my cheek in a way that I sure would be demeaning if I didn’t realize it’s purpose. “I find her to be quite...diverting so far,” he said wryly.

They all chuckled. 

“While in my area, stay out of trouble. Go fuck up someplace else,” Eric warned them as he continued to pet me. 

“Oh, Eric. You never were much fun,” Diane complained. “And now even Bill Compton is mainstreaming.” 

Eric thought about that. “Interesting and unlikely,” he stated. “If not impossible.”

“Well, that’s what he said! He had a hot sweet little blonde with him too,” Liam said as he continued to eye me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. 

“Stay out of my bar and out of trouble,” Eric told them in an authoritative tone.

“Fine. Let’s roll. This place is played out anyway.” Diane griped. 

Once they left, I released a breath that I didn’t know I was holding and quickly gulped the rest of my wine in one go, slowly feeling the tension in my muscles begin to slide away. Eric led me back to his office and motioned for me to sit down in the available chair before sitting on the edge of his desk. 

I realized that I was shaking, hands clenched together in a death grip on each other, and I made an effort to relax and flex them before looking up at Eric slowly.

“Was that...normal?” I asked. 

“They’re a particularly vicious nest of vampires, but it’s not out of the ordinary,” he replied. “Did any of them touch you?” 

I shook my head. “No. Diane got real up in my space, but she didn’t touch me.”

He leaned forward and sniffed me a bit before eventually nodding once he seemed satisfied. 

My heart-rate finally returning to normal, I swallowed and nervously rubbed my palms over the material of my dress, and asked, “What should I have done?” 

“If you ever feel like a vampire is threatening you and I am in the building - just call for me. Literally. Yell my name, and I will come to you,” he explained. 

I was astounded, “From anywhere in the building?” 

“Yes, I could probably hear you from a little farther, but that’s a good estimate,” he replied casually. “If I am not around, then state that you are mine.” 

“I just say. ‘I am Eric Northman’s’?” I repeated the words, and I saw Eric’s eyes bore into me. He liked hearing me say the words, it seemed. 

“Yes, just like that,” he replied hoarsely. 

“Oh.” I was starting to feel calmer, my adrenaline wearing off, or the glass of wine that I downed was finally hitting me, or perhaps a bit of both. 

“Come sit with me?” he asked, holding out his hand. 

“Alright,” I agreed. He led me out to the bar, and it was much more crowded than earlier. He arranged me in his lap just like before. 

“So...all the vampires can hear what we’re saying when we’re up here?” I asked.

“Yes, but generally, they have their own interests to attend to, finding humans to feed from and so on,” he said. “They won’t waste their time listening to us, but it is important not to say anything offensive about them because they could hear it.” 

I nodded. 

“Tell me what you did today,” he demanded.

I rolled my eyes. I was starting to get used to Eric’s imperious attitude. 

“I slept late, and I had a delicious salad. I found out there had been another murder, ummm…” I paused, and I could feel my brow furrowing a bit as I thought of what else I had done that day. “Oh! I went back to the creek and almost fell in, but the chef from the bar grabbed me before I did.” 

“The chef? Why was he there?” I tried to look over my shoulder at him to see his expression, but I couldn’t. 

“I don’t know. He saw me out on the dock really early in the morning the other day when I had stayed out all night swimming. He was out fishing, and he wanted to know if he had imagined me.”

“Why would he think he had imagined you?” he asked me next. 

“I think he has PTSD, and he seemed like maybe he was a former military person. Or maybe because...well, I didn’t swim in my clothes,” I explained. 

He froze for a second. “You swam nude all night in a creek, and a man saw you? Then followed you back there later on?” 

Well, when he put it that way, it sounded bad. “I actually fell asleep on the dock, and he saw me when I woke up. I don’t know if he followed me or if he just happened to be there,” I rushed to clarify and sighed. “He was nice.” 

Eric didn’t say anything for a while, but his hands were tight on my waist. 

“Let me up,” I said. “Please.”

“Why?” 

“So I can go pee,” I told him, and he chuckled. He released me then, and I went to the restroom. I used the stall, and when I came out, I leaned against the counter and just stared at myself in the mirror for a moment, wide eyes staring back. Was I being reckless? Was swimming at night alone really as dangerous as Eric had made it sound? I didn’t know. I washed and dried my hands, still thinking about Eric's obvious concern. 

Walking back from the restroom, I saw a balding man with a mustache and a blue dress shirt approaching Eric on the throne, the man’s eyes fixed on Eric with a look of awe in them. He exuded desperation, and as soon as he kneeled in front of Eric, I could tell that this would not go well. Just as I had predicted, as soon as the man touched him, Eric kicked him, and he cut his head open. A lady vampire with a bob haircut and in a short black leather black dress quickly zoomed in on him, introducing herself and helping him up before whisking him away. The commotion over, I walked back up to Eric, and he pulled me into his lap.

“He touched you,” I observed.

“He did,” Eric said. “I don’t want to be pawed at by every pathetic creature that crawls into this place. I had to make an example of him.”

“Well, I imagine that he’s getting what he wanted anyway, what with how that vampire was looking at him.”

“You have very astute powers of observation.” He complimented me. “What do you notice now?”

I scanned the room. Then I saw it. “Bill’s here,” I said, stunned. 

“He has a human with him.” He stated, and I saw the blonde waitress from Merlotte’s.

“Oh, she’s weird,” I remembered her strange ability to know what I had been thinking.

“That’s like the pot calling the kettle black.” He replied with the old turn of phrase. 

“I’m not weird!” I exclaimed. I was just an introvert, not a mind reader. 

“Shall we have them come up?” He asked, but I could already tell he was going to have them come up.

“Are you going to kick him out of my house?” I asked him excitedly. 

“Oh no, you’re going to, and I’m going to enforce it.” He replied with an amused smile. 

Pam came over and whispered to him in Swedish and then stood behind us. Eric motioned for the couple to come up. They reluctantly came and stood before us. 

“Bill Compton. It has been a while.” Eric said blandly, as he trailed his hand possessively down my neck. 

“Yes, well... I've been…” Bill started to explain.

“Mainstreaming. I heard. I see that is…” Eric looked at Bill’s arm around the waitress’s waist. 

“...going well for you.”

“Yes, of course. Uh, sorry. Eric, this is my friend…” Bill started to say, but Eric interrupted. 

“Sookie Stackhouse.” He cut him off, showing him that he already knew. I mockingly smiled at them. I knew it was a little petty, but I was so happy I would soon be getting my house back.

“How do you know my name?” Sookie asked. 

Pam pointed to her forehead. “I never forget a pretty face. You're in my vault.”

“Great. That's just great. It's nice to meet you.” Sookie said, her worry deepening.

“Well, aren't you _sweet_ ,” Eric emphasized the word sweet, but I wasn’t sure why.

“Not really,” Sookie replied sassily, and Bill tried to elbow her subtlety. She clearly had no idea of who she was dealing with.

Pam leaned over and whispered some more Swedish to Eric. 

“Miss Stackhouse, I understand you've been asking questions about some of my customers.” He stated, and I feel a bit of a threat behind the statement. 

“Yes, I have.” Sookie replied with confidence. 

“If you have anything to ask, you should ask it of me,” Eric said, and I saw him lean over slightly. Was he trying to sniff her?

“All righty.” Sookie dug around in her purse and produced two photos, and she passed them to Eric. “You recognize either one of these girls?”

“Hmm... well, this one offered herself to me. But I found her too pathetic for my attentions.” He indicated the less pretty of the two. She did look rather… pitiful. 

“Now, this one, however...I have tasted.” He said rather seductively, a knowing smirk on his face. I looked over at the photo of the pretty girl with a beauty queen smile. She had the look of a flirty and fun party girl. He implied that he had done more than just drink her blood. I saw Sookie’s eyes flick to mine as if expecting a reaction from me at this statement. What, did she think that Eric was my boyfriend? That I would be jealous? I almost laughed out loud at the idea. 

He handed her back the photos.

“Well... thank you very much. That is all your time I need to take.” She said in an effort to escape. 

“I'm not finished with you yet!” Eric stated. The tone in his voice brooked no argument. “Please. Sit.”

Sookie sat in the seat to our right, and Bill sat awkwardly in the chair on the other side of us. 

“So, Bill. I hear you are living in my human’s house. Against her wishes.” Eric stated in bald terms. 

“It is mine!” Bill claimed. “I helped build that house.”

“Yes. Bill lived there first.” Sookie stated stubbornly.

“More's the pity. For you,” Eric purred with a sly smile. This was too much fun. I would definitely remember this for a very long time. 

Then, out of nowhere, Sookie seemed alarmed.

“We have to get out of here,” she said frantically, looking at a man in the crowd. What kind of escape was this? I wanted my house back!

“Sookie…” Bill started, but Sookie interrupted.

“Eric, the cops are coming. There's gonna be a raid…” 

Eric’s teasing grin immediately dropped and was replaced with a look of intense focus. Eric was furious and leaned towards Sookie as he questioned her, “Tell me you're not an undercover cop…”.

“I'm not, but that man in the hat is,” Sookie exclaimed. 

“Even if you're right, we do nothing illegal here.” Why did I get a niggling feeling of doubt at that statement?

“There's a vampire named Taryn in the ladies' room with that man you kicked before. She's feeding on him,” Sookie explained quickly, and it occurred to me that she really could read people's thoughts. That’s how she had known what I wanted to order. 

“How do you know this?” Pam stared Sookie down as if her stare alone would make Sookie spill all her secrets. 

Suddenly police officers started storming into the bar, shouting loudly and attempting to round customers up. 

“Follow me,” Eric said, lifting me quickly into his arms. He led us out the back and started zooming us away at vampire speed. 

“Don’t think that this conversation is over, Bill. Far from it.” Eric warned him. He eyed Sookie curiously, and then we were gone.

“Close your eyes if you’re prone to motion sickness.” Eric softly told me as we picked up more speed, and I snapped my eyes close.

I felt a breeze passing over me for a few minutes, and then it stopped. Eric set me down, and we stood before a large wrought iron gate. Eric punched in a code, and the gate swung open, and Pam and I stepped inside it as Eric shut it behind us. 

“Another fuckin’ raid,” Pam yelled. “You need to get the AVL lawyers involved.”

Eric nodded. “I agree. It’s first on the agenda tomorrow. If that doesn't work, a little bribe and a well-placed glamour for the Chief of Police will be the next move.” He added with a very characteristic smirk. 

I thought about that. It made sense. 

They’re targeting you because you’re a vampire business,” I said my thoughts aloud. “That’s...prejudiced.” 

“No, shit,” Pam replied with an eye roll. 

I mulled on the implications for vampires being out of the coffin. I hadn’t considered how dangerous it was for them. We reached the house, a rather modern-looking building that had windows of full tinted glass. Eric put in another code and the front door unlocked. We entered into an open floor plan, the entry blending into a large living room, dining area, and kitchen. Pam turned and went down the hall away from us. 

“This is ...your home?” I asked, looking around curiously. There were many interesting objects and pieces of artwork displayed, and I knew I could spend hours observing and sketching some of the things he had out.

“Yes, one of them,” he replied, leading me through. “I am going to ask that you stay here for the rest of the evening and all of tomorrow day.” 

“Oh. Why?” I asked. 

“It is not safe to be driving now with the raid, and it will be too near dawn for me to take you to your car by the time that it is safe. Additionally, once the alarm is set for the day, it will be triggered if you leave from the inside,” he explained. 

“Okay. That’s fine.” It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go. 

Eric called down the hallway in Swedish, and Pam responded in kind. 

“Luckily, we do have some human food for you. Pam had one of her pets staying here for a while.” 

“Am...would someone describe me as your pet?” I asked as I followed him into the sleek modern kitchen. 

“They could, but they would be wrong. I don’t keep pets,” he replied. “And you don’t strike me as the type who would want to be a pet.” 

I shook my head vigorously. “No. I would not like that.” 

“Feel free to eat any of the human food, but check the expiration dates,” he said, showing me a cabinet. “Do not open the fridge or freezer,” he warned me seriously. 

“Why?”

“That is where we store donor blood.” His tone was deathly serious. “I don’t want you even to be tempted to open it.” My face must have shown my confusion because he went on. “It is human blood, and while unlikely, it could contain human diseases. HIV, AIDs, Hepatitis B, and C, Syphilis…I would feel...most remiss if you were exposed to one of these whiles under my protection.” 

I nodded. “I understand now. But if you drank contaminated blood, couldn’t you pass it through your bite?” I asked, just thinking of that for the first time.

“Only if I did not sheath my fangs between drinking the blood and the bite. The disease dies in the vampire system. There are still vampires in silver for passing AIDS during the epidemic in the 80s. It is a most serious offense.” 

“I hadn’t even thought of that before now.” 

We stood silently for a moment. 

Pam came in and said something in Swedish to Eric, and he responded. 

“Come with me,” he said, and we walked down the hall past what appeared to be bedrooms and an office. Stopping at the door at the end of the hall, Eric entered a code into the keypad next to the door. The door opened and slowly illuminated to reveal a set of stairs leading down towards what looked to be the basement. He motioned for me to go down first, then entered a code into the keypad to close the door before following behind me. 

We were in a long basement hallway with three doors. Eric came down and entered another code and then turned the knob and again let me enter first.

“Is this your bedroom?” I asked. A large bed dominated the room; the walls painted a navy blue. There was one large black and white photo on the wall of a city I didn’t recognize. 

“It is. This house is...a very secret place. A vampire at rest is at their most vulnerable. Before you leave tomorrow, I will need to glamour you,” he explained softly. 

“Why did you bring me down here?” I asked, looking at the bed. 

He grinned at me flirtatiously. “Change your mind yet?” 

“Eric!” I exclaimed. 

“Pam wanted to heat up a donor blood, and I wasn’t comfortable having you around while she did that.” 

I didn’t respond. Eric took the donor blood thing very seriously. He was staring at me, and I realized he was looking at me with the same intent stare from the other day when he fed on me in Fangtasia. 

“Oh!” I said when I realized. “Did you...are you…thirsty?” I mumbled. He nodded slowly, eyes hungrily tracing the curve of my neck.

“May I feed from you? I realize I did not get your house released to you yet,” he said, and I knew that I could say no if I wanted to. It made me feel more comfortable. 

“I know you will,” I responded. Remembering how pleased Eric seemed earlier, I tried using the words he taught me at Fangtasia, “You can...feed from me.” 

Eric’s lips curled into a pleased smile. “Would you like the bite in the same place as before?” he asked, coming over to stroke my neck. His icy eyes looked at the twin marks he had left on me, with something like...pride?

I shook my head. “Is there someplace that you can bite me that people won’t see as easily?” I asked. 

His eyes darkened as he leaned forward and replied, “There is, but I’m not sure you’re ready for it.”

“Where?” 

“The femoral artery. On your inner thigh,” Eric whispered, and his voice deepened to a lower register.

I swallowed. That would be very intimate. 

“There’s nowhere else?” 

“I could bite any part of your body, and it would bleed, but the jugular and the femoral are the least painful. I could bite your wrist, but I would have to pull for quite a while, as well as from your inner elbow. The pulling causes pressure, creating unnecessary pain, and bruising.”

That made sense. I weighed my options - I wanted my neck to heal, and I figured out pretty quickly that if I was going to get a teaching job in this town, it would be prudent not to have bite marks on my neck. 

“Okay, let’s try the femoral,” I said, a little nervous. 

He was frozen for a moment as if he couldn’t process what I said and then spurred quickly into action. 

“Sit on the bed,” he directed me. I sat on the luxurious looking bed. It felt firm and plush, and oh so comfortable, the comforter on top soft under my palms. He knelt before me and took off my little sandals, and he set them aside. “Lay in the center of the bed,” he told me next, and I scooted to the middle of the bed and laid down. 

He removed his shoes and then crawled up the bed from the bottom. He sat on his knees before me, and I saw that his pupils were blown black. 

“Spread your legs and lift your dress,” he commanded. 

I felt myself flush, but I did both. With an air of approval, Eric looked down at me. I was both relieved and pleased that I had decided to put on my nice pair of light pink cotton panties today. He leaned down and sniffed my thigh, and I felt myself clench as his breath swirled through my panties against me. Why was this so arousing? I mean, he was just going to bite me. I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm and talk myself down. 

Suddenly Eric licked my left leg higher up than I thought he would, catching me by surprise. 

“Bend your leg, and turn it out slightly,” he told me, and I tried to do as he asked. “Can I adjust you?” he asked because clearly, I didn’t do what he wanted. 

“Yes,” I said, and my voice came out all breathy.

Eric reached out and gently bent my knee, his hand large even when compared to my leg. He then pushed my thigh down, so my leg was jutting out at a nearly ninety-degree angle from my body. 

“Quite flexible,” he said more to himself than to me. 

I swallowed again. Eric kept his cool hand on me, holding me open to him. He started licking the skin right near the crease of my leg, and then I felt his fangs rasp gently against the delicate thin skin there. It felt like a white-hot prod of arousal to my core, and I couldn’t help but whimper. 

“Shhh…” he tried to soothe me. “It won’t hurt.” 

He scraped his fangs against me again, and a strangled moaning sound escaped me - it was like that spot was directly connecting to all of the nerves in my body. 

“Oh...” he rumbled deeply, understanding that it was not fear that I was shaking with. He mumbled something foreign that had a tone of profanity. Then he barely pressed his fangs into the tense flesh of my inner thigh. The scorching pinch flew through my body, and I felt a surge of wanton desire. My hands frantically grabbed hold of the comforter underneath me in a tight grip, and a soft gasp escaped me. It was such a strange sensation, and I felt out of control...I hadn’t felt this way ever. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to handle it. 

“Oh. I don’t know…” I tried to tell him. “It’s...so much.” 

Eric removed his fangs. “Do you need me to stop?” he asked.

I shook my head. I could breathe again, and I felt more normal when he wasn’t sinking his fangs into my flesh. He moved his mouth back to my inner thigh, working the skin there with the pull of his mouth. It was highly erotic, and I felt my need rising again. It felt like a timeless otherworldly rhythm that I just happened to get caught in. The push and pull of the ocean’s tide. The rise and fall of the sun and the moon. The cycle of nature of birth, life, death, and then the way that death feeds back to birth again. It was everything, and I felt myself become lost in the sensation, unaware of my own sense of self, just a being inhabiting a moment of pleasure.

As he massaged my skin and pulled more and more blood, he lifted my arousal higher and higher. I was going to come. I couldn’t help it - I was already so close! I barely felt the scrape of his fangs again before I was cresting, as my vision blacked out and filled with stars while I was suddenly overcome with...everything. I was weightless. I was part of the universe. I was one with the world around me. I was everything and nothing. 

When I finally returned to my body and regained my sense of self, I felt his breath right against my core. I looked down to see his mouth ringed with blood, his fangs still down, his eyes contracting and dilating, and his form tense. 

“Gods...you smell... So…” He put his face right next to me again, taking a long, deep inhale of my scent as if savoring some rare delicacy. 

"I’m sorry,” I apologized, and I felt the blush on my cheeks. 

“Never apologize for this, please,” he almost growled, voice hoarse and rough, and he seemed to have to force his fangs away as if it were uncomfortable to do so. He crawled up the bed and laid next to me, not touching me, wiping my blood off his face and licking his fingers slowly. I looked over and saw that his slacks had a massive bulge, and I looked away. 

“Tell me about your first time having sex.” He demanded in his usual way. 

Did I really want to tell him about this? 

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours first,” I said, in the hope that it would deter him. 

He closed his eyes for a moment before responding. “It was a very long time ago,” he said. “The times were much different.” 

“I know.” 

“Many women got married around the age of twelve or thirteen.” He stated. “I was...not married. I had a betrothal fall through, and I used the opportunity to put off marriage for as long as possible.” He laid still with his eyes closed. “I must have been fourteen or so. I had always been fascinated by women, and I was the prince, so I had my pick of them. I met with the bosom servant that fed the goats in the haystacks, and well, things kept progressing and...then I thrust twice, and it was all over.” He opened his eyes to see my grin. “I did get in much more practice after that, in both my human life and the thousand years that followed.” 

I thought about how much he must have seen to have lived a thousand years. That astounded and amazed me. A thousand years of history lying in bed next to me. 

“Now, tell me,” he demanded. 

I sigh and conceded. I realized that Eric Northman was used to getting what he wanted. 

“I was a freshman in college, and I had this instructor for my sculpting class.” I started. “I thought…” I shook my head. “I was so foolish. He was a grad student, and he was in his thirties, and I thought he was so worldly and sophisticated. He was so flattering, and he told me that my sculpting was amazing. I believed him. He would talk with me after class, and I thought that … I don’t know. I thought he saw me. Anyway. The last week of the course, I slept with him, and it hurt.” I paused here, considering if I wanted to tell Eric how badly the instructor hurt me. I decided not to. “And I didn't feel good or meaningful in any way. And once the course ended, I never saw him again. He didn’t return my calls, and...that was that.” 

“So you haven’t had sex since?” he asked me.

I thought about the pain that I thought was normal. About how rough the instructor had been despite it being my first time, how I had continued to bleed the following day because he had torn me so badly. How often I called him and still thought that he cared about me, even after. 

“I guess I just… I never felt the… I don’t know. You’ll think it’s stupid.” I turned away from him. 

“I won’t tell me,” he said, pulling my shoulder back. 

“I guess I just feel like I need more. I need the universe to open to me and show me all its mystery and beauty...I want it all. I don’t want just an average everyday experience. I don’t want just to feel pleasure. I want to become part of that person, and for them to become part of me and for it to be a profound, beautiful, eternal moment.” 

I glanced over at him. I had a pensive look on my face while I waited for his response. 

A few seconds passed as the determined expression on Eric’s face faded, eyes staring into the emptiness of the room, and a look I couldn’t quite interpret replaced it. “I think I’ve experienced that before. But it wasn’t during sex,” he told me softly, voice heavy with..something. 

“When was it?” 

He looked away. “A story for a different time,” he said, his shift in voice tone indicating that the matter was closed, at least for the moment. “The sun is going to rise, and you don’t want to get stuck down in here with me for the entire day.” 

He got off the bed and held his hand out to me and pulled me off the side. I felt the cool dampness of my panties press against me uncomfortably, and I was embarrassed at my strong reaction to his bite - again. I snagged my shoes, and we walked out into the basement hall and up the stairs. 

“Can I borrow one of your shirts to sleep in?” I asked as he put in the code to let me out. 

“Yes, this first door here is a bedroom that you can sleep in, and my t-shirts are in the second drawer of the dresser,” he explained, nodding to the door as he spoke. “Goodday, Jane.” He said rather formally as I walked over. 

“Goodday, Eric,” I replied in kind. 

He entered the code, and the door closed again. I went into the bedroom, opened the second drawer, and pulled out a simple black shirt. I peeled off my dress and took off my bra and my damp panties, and put them on the top of the dresser so they could dry. I pulled Eric’s shirt on, taking a quick sniff of the fabric. It had an herbal, almost spicy scent, and I couldn't help but take a couple more sniffs of the material as I crawled into the bed and got situated. The bed was very comfortable - not like the heaven of Eric’s bed downstairs, but still a million times better than the motel bed. 

I felt weak and tired, but I closed my eyes and tried to relax. After the day I had, I knew I needed to sleep. I drifted off to sleep, thinking of the expression on Eric’s face from before and what it could mean, and remembering kisses while floating among the stars. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The goal is to update this story once a week, hopefully on Wednesdays. I love to interact with folks in the reviews, so feel free to tell me what you think and what predictions you have. 
> 
> -Soft


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone that has left such positive feedback. It's lovely to hear when folks appreciate your work. I have been a fanfiction reader for over ten years now and as a new author, I never realized how utterly joyful it is to receive a little notification that someone has left a review. 
> 
> Once again, a big shout-out to my beta reader, FumiyoSenka! She has been busy with her own life but still makes time to read, edit, proof, and revise my work and all for free. The quality of this story would not be the same without her.

Eric’s POV - Saturday, June 20th, 2009

When I woke from my day rest, I was immediately assaulted by the scent of Jane’s arousal still lingering in the air. Gods, it was mouthwatering, like a Huldra in the forest taunting me. Taking an unneeded deep breath in, I spent some time just laying in bed, letting Jane’s scent roll over me, enjoying it, savoring it. As I had gotten older, I woke up earlier and earlier, usually before the sun had even set. Eventually, I pulled myself away from Jane’s alluring scent, and I got out of bed and walked over to my phone. I flicked through my various notifications while I mulled over what I would need to do tonight - take care of the situation with the police chief, deal with the aftermath of the raid, and most importantly, punish Taryn for her blatant and flagrant breaking of the most essential rule at my establishment: no feeding on the premises. Not that Pam or I followed it, but it was my house, my rules. Then I would need to deal with Bill and try to find out more about his sassy, overly sweet human that seemed to have some sort of special abilities.

I was most concerned about the scent of Bill’s human. She smelled strongly of Bill’s blood, and I wondered if he had flooded her. It was one of the most manipulative ways a vampire could control another - through the excess feeding vampire blood. The blood would exacerbate feelings already there, but Bill could have taken her from simple curiosity to full-blown obsession with the amount of blood she had in her system.

The blood was addictive, as well. As long as a human didn’t have a propensity for substance abuse, most humans were fine with a couple of drops here or there, but the amount that this sweet Sookie Stackhouse had in her could have turned even the most pious of people into a blood fiend. I could not tell if he had created a blood bond with her yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he had, just from the sheer amount of his blood I smelled in her. Usually, it took about three blood exchanges to create the bond, less if the amounts were tremendous or the vampire was ancient. But her scent was unusual as well. Why did she smell so saccharine? Did she drink nothing but corn syrup? I found her scent sickeningly sweet but also strangely unique.

My mind lingered on these thoughts as I climbed the stairs and punched in the code to automatically release the door. I had forgotten that Jane had been sleeping in the bedroom where I kept my clothes, and I walked in without even thinking of knocking. She was stretched out on the bed, her head down, her perfect round ass facing up, and the way my shirt stretched over it enticingly told me she had nothing on underneath. Mmmm…

Taking a moment to pause and enjoy the view, I eventually announced my presence. “Good afternoon,” I purred, and she jumped up from the bed with a squeak, limbs flailing adorably. She hadn’t heard my approach, and I had evidently startled her.

“Jesus!” she exclaimed while scrambling up. “I didn’t even know you could be up right now,” she said, looking at the clock on the nightstand. It was half-past three in the afternoon.

“The older a vampire becomes, the earlier they rise from day rest,” I explained to her as I got clothes from my closet and dresser. A suit tonight, especially if I had to talk to the police chief.

“Oh.” She said, and she then yawned a cute kitten-like yawn. “I just woke up at three.”

“Did you sleep well?” I asked to be polite.

She paused, head tilting to the side in thought for a moment. “I had weird dreams.”

“Hmm…” I hummed in what I hoped was a somewhat acceptably interested tone. “I will be in the shower,” I told her, and I exited the room. As I went into the ensuite master bath, I entertained myself with the fantasy that she would decide to join me, her petite form covered in beads of water that rolled down her skin while wide eyes watched me hungrily. It was a nice dream, and I wished that it would come true soon rather than later. It was only a matter of time before she succumbed to my charms, though. With a small smirk, I exited the master bath, fully prepared for the evening, my suit looking sharp and my long hair neatly tied back.

Jane wasn’t in the room, and when I went out of the hallway, I found her just standing and admiring some of the objects and art I had displayed. She was staring at my drawing from Leonardo Da Vinci, a simple study of a bird he had purchased and then released. He hadn’t signed it, and at the time, I doubt he had considered it more than a doodle. He and Godric had gotten on famously, and I think that Godric still had all of the portraits Leo had done of him.

“Is this...what I think it is?” She asked after studying it for a long while.

Her eyes were analyzing every inch of the page, and I could see her struggling to reconcile what she was seeing with her knowledge. She was an artist and an art teacher.

“That depends on what you think it is,” I told her.

“Is this a lost sketch from Leonardo da Vinci?” She asked, her voice full of wonder.

“Lost? No, I’ve kept it safe from the moment he gave it to me five hundred years ago.” I told her simply and watched her mind take that in.

I had been expecting shock, awe, for her to demand that I tell her more. Instead, she sank to her knees on the floor in front of the framed sketch and sat perfectly still. As if praying at an altar. Her face was utterly blank. Calm. Then she looked at me, and I found myself subject to her intense blue-green stare.

“Why do you keep this here?” She asked me.

It hadn’t even crossed my mind not to. I suppose some people would think it rather selfish to keep his work to myself, but I had always just considered that it was a gift from a friend, and it made me remember him, and it brought me joy. That seemed to be a ridiculously sentimental reason to keep such a fine drawing from one of the best men that had ever lived. I hadn’t even realized that I had been depriving the world of his work.

“It hadn’t occurred to me to have it anywhere else,” I replied, a half-truth.

She nodded and looked away. “Can I shower?” She asked, changing the subject. It was odd, I had expected her to interrogate me about Leo, and I had several great stories already lined up to tell her, but she didn’t seem to want to ask me about him.

“Yes, the soap in the green container is the kind that will eliminate all scent from you. You need only but a drop of it,” I told Jane.

She nodded and went back through the bedroom. I went into my office and tried to shake off her strange behavior. It was unusual when people didn’t do what I expected them to. After a thousand years, I had become an expert on people. It wasn’t like them to surprise me. I sat at my desk and checked my emails and some of my investment statements. I tried to put Jane’s strange reaction out of my mind.

Jane’s head peeked in, her hair damp. “I’m going to look at the food in the kitchen,” she announced. She was wearing her dress from the night before, and from the smell, her sweet little cotton panties. They were far more intriguing to me than the thousands of pieces of lace that I had destroyed in the past several decades.

I nodded to her, and she left. I heard her banging around in the kitchen, and I decided that I wouldn’t get any work done, knowing that she was so close to the donor blood. I walked out and found her kneeling on the counter, too short to get anything out of it by standing on the floor. I stood behind her, worried she would fall. Humans were so breakable. I heard her stomach growl.

She sighed and got down.

“Is the food not acceptable?” I asked.

“It’s fine. I’m just picky.” She explained. “When will we leave?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Not for a few hours,” I told Jane. Her stomach rumbled loudly again. “Why are you...picky?” I asked, using her word.

She shook her head. “You’ll think it’s silly.”

“Perhaps. Tell me anyway.” I demanded.

“I don’t eat anything that comes from animals. No meat, no eggs, no dairy.” She explained.

I nodded, now the fresh cleanness of her blood made sense to me. It wasn’t full of extra hormones or cholesterol. Of the lard and fat that clogged the veins of so many humans these days. That earthiness, that wildness...I still couldn’t place it. Her rose scent was almost familiar too. Where had I scented it before? It was delicious and unusual.

“Why?” I asked her.

“I guess because I know how much suffering comes from animals, and I just don’t want to put it in my body.”

Another bloody philosopher. She sounded like Godric, trying to justify not drinking human blood.

“So, you would rather go hungry than eat what’s in the cupboard?”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine. I don’t eat a lot.”

“It shows. You’re too thin.” I told her.

“Gee, thanks.” She replied sarcastically.

I heard her stomach rumble again, and I decided to break a rule. A safety rule, and that was something I did not do. I was not adequately prepared to have her here, and I would be remiss if I kept her here in discomfort. I mentally prepared a list of what she would need to have here. I would have my day man purchase all the necessary items for her.

“I will let you leave, but I must do the glamour first,” I told her.

She looked scared, more scared now than when I first bit her. It was unavoidable; the nest’s security and safety were not something that could be left in her unsecured open mind.

“I am going to give your mind infallible instructions on what you will do if anyone ever attempts to find out anything about our security here, or even the location,” I explained to her seriously.

She nodded solemnly. “Okay.”

“Make eye contact with me,” I told her, and I started to pull her in. Her aquamarine eyes glazed over, and I began the glamour.

“Jane.”

“Yes.”

“If anyone ever tries to find out anything about my home, you will tell them a believable lie. Then as soon as it is safe for you to do so, you will contact me immediately and report them to me.”

“Lie and report.” She responded, zombie-like.

“You will never willingly reveal the location. You will never willingly reveal any of the security measures you saw in place in my home or resting place.”

“Never.” She agreed.

I released the glamour, and she looked as if she would cry.

“Excuse me,” she said, and she stood abruptly and went to the bathroom, and I heard her sobs from inside. I listened to her wretch, vomiting as well. What had caused this? Her aching cries were plaintive, and I had no idea what to do. It was simply...bizarre.

Pam came out. “Did you break your new toy already?” She asked me with a raised eyebrow.

“She did not react well to the safety glamour,” I replied, sitting on the couch.

Pam frowned. “Why?” She asked. “None of my pets have ever minded the glamour. Did you hit her with it too hard?”

I shook my head. My glamour was perfect and precise, and I didn’t overwhelm her mind with mine - I just imposed my will on her as one would with any glamour.

Jane’s crying stopped, and I heard her sniffle and blow her nose. She came out with red-rimmed eyes.

“Can I leave now?” She asked, clearly not wanting to talk about it. But she wasn’t going to get away that easily.

“Explain your reaction to me, and then you may leave.” I tried.

“So, if I don’t explain, I can’t leave?” She asked, wiping a residual tear.

“I have never seen a human react this way to my glamour before. It is...concerning.” I stated.

She looked uncomfortably toward Pam, and I ordered Pam to leave in Swedish, and she did. Jane stood there, still not explaining. I realized I was going to have to start prodding her along if I ever wanted answers.

“Did it hurt?” I started. I hadn’t hurt anyone with glamour since I was a yearling.

“No. It wasn’t physically painful.” She said. “It was just...It was terrifying…” she said, and another tear slipped down her face. “I could feel myself being forced to agree, and I had no control, I had no self...I was just gone.”

Then I understood. Jane was utterly helpless and vulnerable. She didn’t quite realize just how much until only then.

“Can...can you tell me if I’ve been glamoured before?”

I nodded. “Most vampires can’t. It’s a skill that comes with age.”

“Will you check for me?” she asked, her voice raw, a bitter, desperate edge.

“Think back to the memory, the time that you feel you might have been glamoured, but keep your eyes open,” I told her, and I watched her remember. I saw no sign of the telltale haze, the shimmer of a memory distorted or removed.

“No, nothing,” I told her, and she sighed in relief.

“Check once more?” she asked. She thought again, and I saw a flicker, just a blip, but it was there.

“Yes, just a small one.”

She nodded. “I was thinking of when Bill told me that the house was his.”

She was clever. She was testing me.

“Jane.” I sighed uselessly. “You understand why the glamour is necessary?”

“I do. I get it. Really...I just hate the feeling of it like...mind rape,” she whispered, and I felt like I had been slapped.

Mind rape. I felt sick.

“I’m going to go now,” she said. “Can you tell me how or undo the code?”

I nodded, still processing. “I will undo this door, and you’ll have to do the gate yourself. The code for that gate is 13-48-02.”

She repeated it a couple of times so her mind would have it. Then I undid the door, and she slipped outside before any light could burn me significantly. The door snicked shut, and I slid down it, sitting on the floor, putting my head in my hands. She felt as if I had raped her mind. My glamour was so invasive that it was akin to rape.

Gods.

****

Jane’s POV- Saturday, June 20th, 2009

During the mile walk back to Fangtasia and my car, I had a lot of time to think. Was getting the house back really worth all of this? Getting bitten, and feeling the rolling uncontrollable arousal, and having my mind taken over and invaded? I realized that I spent a lot of time by myself in my own head. That I was acutely self-aware and that the insane taking over of my inner self was traumatic for me.

When Bill had done it, it had felt like a simple magic trick. Cluck like a chicken on the stage in Vegas. It hadn’t felt...real. When Eric was in my mind, it was as if he had replaced my entire self with nothing but him. I shuddered again. I still trusted Eric, which was probably crazy. I thought back to how he had checked to see if I had been glamoured. I was so relieved to find my memory of my silver-eyed stranger was perfectly untampered. I would have probably died of heartbreaking sadness if it had all been made up.

I finally got to my car, and I got in and started my drive back to the motel. I decided not to wallow in my feelings about the glamour. I understood why it had to happen, I agreed to it, and it was over now. Just another moment that had passed, and I wasn’t going to waste any more time feeling sorry for myself or getting upset about something I couldn’t change.

Once I let that go, I enjoyed my drive and appreciated the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, how the warm late afternoon breeze flowed over my skin through my open window, and I felt more like myself again. I went into my motel room and opened up my suitcase and changed my clothes from the ones I had been wearing last night. My stomach grumbled at me angrily, demanding that I put something in it.

I drove over to Merlotte’s, and it was packed, so I sat at the bar. I didn’t mind eating at the bar. Shaggy silver-fox Sam Merlotte was behind the bar. “What can I get you cheré?” He asked me with a hint of flirtation.

“Ummm...can I have a chef’s salad with no meat, no cheese, no eggs, and with whatever extra veggies the chef wants to throw on there? Oh! And the redheaded waitress owes me a free sweet tea.” I told him.

“She does, does she? Well alright, then.” He poured me the sweet tea and put my order on a ticket. “So you going to your ancestor’s talk tonight?”

“What talk?” I asked. “Why would anyone want to listen to him?”

Sam chuckled at that. “There’s a local club here, called the Descendants of the Glorious Dead, a civil war history club. Sookie’s Gran got him to agree to come to speak about his experience during the Civil War.”

“Huh,” I said, not sure how to respond. “Descendants of the Glorious Dead, knowing that I’m a descendant of Bill’s just puts a whole weird spin on the ‘glorious dead’ part of that.”

Sookie walked in from the back and seemed surprised to see me. She looked fine, although maybe a little grumpy about last night.

“Did ya get your free sweet tea?” The redheaded waitress asked me, coming up as well. I nodded as she started to make margaritas for one of her tables. Sookie started filling ketchup bottles next to me and accidentally spilled some across her hand. “That vampire Bill would get a rise out of that,” Redhead added saucily.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” Sookie replied, a little testy as she wiped off her hand.

“Vamp club, not all it was made out to be, huh?” The waitress said as she added the finishing touches to a margarita. “A lot of freaks I hear and people from Arkansas.”

“It got raided by the cops last night.” I threw in.

“It was fine.” Sookie replied.

“So, what then? Did that vampire get all handsy with you?”

“Arelene. I can take care of myself.” God, Sookie had no idea what they were capable of. “And, no, I won’t be going out with him again.”

Arlene, the redheaded waitress, and Sam exchanged smiles. Clearly, they didn’t think much of Bill. Or maybe it was just vampires in general.

“Okay, that place was kind of freaky,” Sookie admitted, looking at me. “Didn’t you think so?”

I shrugged. “Well, now you know and have seen for yourself,” I said diplomatically.

“I said my piece yesterday,” Sam added, and I saw him looking at Sookie with adoration. It looked like he was holding a torch for her.

“I’m sorry it didn’t turn out like you hoped. But better it happens now than before you end up hurt or dead.” Arelene said, walking away with the margaritas, and I felt she had a point. Vampires were dangerous.

Sam slid over in front of Sookie. “I hope you’re not too flipped out to miss the Descendants of the Glorious Dead tonight.”

“No, I gotta go. Gran’s all in a tither about it.” Sookie replied.

“Good, ‘cause, uh, I was gonna ask if you wanna go with me.” Everyone sitting at the bar was watching their exchange with interest. “Maybe we’ll go grab a cup of coffee or somethin’ after.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Are you askin’ me out?”

“Yeah, I am.” Sam looked nervous. “That’s pretty much how I do it. Sometimes they even say yes.”

Sookie and Sam looked at all the eyes on them. “Everyone’s looking at us,” Sookie told him.

“I know, you better say yes.” He joked.

There was another long pause while she considered. “Shoot. Why not?”

“Good,” Sam said, real pleased. “Eyes back on your food, people.”

My stomach growled. Where was my salad?

Sookie walked down to give ketchup to a bald man at the end of the bar, and Sam retreated to the back. She went to get him a sweet tea refill, and the other waitress came out with my salad.

“Thank you, this looks great!” I exclaimed, seeing how loaded my salad was.

“I think Lafayette appreciated gettin’ to do somethin’ different.” She said. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She set my vinaigrette down and walked away.

I ate my large salad, just as delicious if not a little more artful than the one I ate yesterday. My favorite angry bartender came out from the back.

“Hey, Jane.” She greeted me with a look of apology.

“Hey, Angry,” I replied with a small smirk.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Tara.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her, and she laughed. Then she noticed my healing neck bite. “So, you went through with it.”

“Yep,” I said between bites of salad.

“Did he get your house back?” She asked.

“Not yet.”

“Typical,” she scoffed. “Give ‘em your blood, and he don’t even follow through.”

“It’s not like that. There have been complications.”

Sookie came back out, handing a bald man his sweet tea, and I heard her angry tone but not her words.

“What’s that about?”

“You heard there was another murder?” I nodded. “That’s Andy Bellefleur, and he’s a dumbass detective that thinks Jason, Sookie’s brother, is the murderer. He ain’t, but he’s the top suspect.”

“Why do they think it’s him?”

“Well, probably ‘cause he’s a horndog. He slept with both the women that got murdered. But they also slept with vampires.” Her eyes lingered on my bite.

I knew she probably thought that I did too.

“Hmm..” I said, unsure of what to make of what she said, and I finished up the last few bites of my salad. I sipped my sweet tea. Tara went to make some drinks for folks, and I took the opportunity to leave my cash on the table. On my way out, I almost bumped directly into the man with a cajun accent, and I saw his eyes linger on my neck before I went around him.

“Hey cheré, yous just leavin’?” He asked, all friendly.

“Hi, nice to see you again,” I said to be polite.

“Yous comin’ to see the vampire talk tonight, no?” He asked.

“I don’t think so,” I replied. I was filled with a random mad rage, and then as suddenly as it came over me...it was gone.

He looked over his shoulder at someone calling for him. “Rene, you comin’?” They called.

“Bye,” I said quickly - I needed to get away from this man and my weird feelings.

I walked down the stairs and got into my car. I exhaled. That was odd. I decided to drive to the cemetery near my house. I wanted to check out the old tombstones and see what hidden things I could find there. That would be calming. I parked and wandered through. I found an excellent weepy willow tree that seemed to be in constant mourning, as if placed in the cemetery for just that purpose.

Impulsively, I decided to climb it. I swung my legs up over the branches, and I was able to sit on a high branch. I watched the shadows of the headstones in the graveyard lengthen as day turned toward night. How lovely it was to watch the world change, to see time pass. I wondered how I would look as the years passed. Would I become as worn and weathered as these tombstones before me? Would I fade to dust and become one with the universe? I wondered if it was perverse, or morbid, to think about my own aging and death. I loved how time brought changes, and I didn’t limit my adoration to seasons or flowers. Maybe I thought about my hopes for aging because my parents died untimely deaths. Perhaps that was why I was so obsessed with my own. Oh, how I hoped I would age because the alternative was what they went through. It was a violent accident and a long, drawn-out illness, accompanied by an ever-creeping sense of dread and slowly increasing loss of control. I shivered and quickly yanked my mind away from the dark train of thought; the fading light prompted me to get down from my worldly perch.

I decided that I would get down and look at some of the designs and interesting epitaphs on the tombstones before it was too dark to see them. I wondered if I could get some paper and make rubbings of my favorite designs, if I could learn about the people below, just by touching their headstone.

As I was climbing down, a branch creaked threateningly. I stepped on it lightly, cautiously, but it was no use. As soon as I had put my full weight down - the branch snapped, the cracking sound scared a group of birds. I saw them fly away, the dark outlines of their bodies contrasting against the twilight blue sky beautifully as I went sprawling.

I landed on my right ankle, and it made an icky thudding sound. I tried not to cry, but it was painful. I felt hot tears on my cheeks, and the pain was radiating outward. Pain always teaches, and this time I learned to be more careful in trees. After I took a few breaths, I got myself up and slowly started to shift my weight to my left leg. When I tried to put any pressure on my other leg, it screamed at me painfully. It was possibly broken or just badly sprained. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to drive. I had seen a charming old white farmhouse on the other side of the graveyard, so I decided to limp on over to it and see if I could get some help. It took a ridiculously long time, and I felt like a hobbled snail as I crawled agonizingly toward the lovely farmhouse. The house needed some care, but I liked it immediately; it had a natural homey feel. When I finally reached the house, it was near dusk. I limped up to the front porch and knocked on the door.

A nicely dressed elderly lady, complete with pearls, answered. “Oh my goodness, you poor dear!” the lady exclaimed, gesturing me in.

“Thank you so much. It’s my right ankle, so I couldn’t drive anywhere,” I told her through clenched teeth.

“Well, you just come sit right here, and I’ll get you some ice,” she said, and she helped me to the sofa. “Now, how did you do that?” She asked me, coming back with the ice.

I blushed, embarrassed. “I fell out of a willow tree in the cemetery. I was just watching the sunset, and as I climbed down, a branch snapped.”

“That’s a rather adventurous pastime for a young lady your age.” She said with a smile, and I got the impression that she was someone who had some adventures of her own. She placed a package of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel around my ankle.

“I guess sometimes I just like to see things from a little different point of view,” I told her.

She gave me a genuine smile, and I felt a warmth in my heart. It was as if she understood exactly what I meant.

“Well, you’ve got yourself into a right pickle here. Do you want me to get someone to take you to the hospital?”

I sighed. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I had spent so much time in the hospital when my Dad was sick, and going back to hospitals always just…reminded me.

“Well, I can see that isn’t what you want to do. How about a lift home then?” She asked me kindly.

“Thank you. I’ve been staying out at the old motel off of the highway.” I explained to her.

She gave me a disgruntled look, and it was clear that she thought that was not a proper place for me to be staying. “Oh no, honey. You’re staying right here.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You’ve been so kind already…”

She gave me a firm motherly look. “I wasn’t asking. Now, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Jane Compton,” I told her, resigned to her hospitality.

“My stars! You must be the descendant of Mr. Compton!” She exclaimed. “He’s speaking at my club’s meetin’ tonight!”

I nodded. “Yes, I am. I heard about that.”

“Well, you probably know all about him, so you won’t be missin’ a thing not getting to go tonight.” She began to bustle about.

I decided not to burst her bubble. Then surprisingly, the front door opened, and in walked Sookie Stackhouse, the telepathic waitress and no big fan of mine.

“What is she doing here?” Sookie asked the kind elderly lady.

“She hurt her ankle in the cemetery.”

Sookie looked at me, and I wondered if she was reading my thoughts, so I showed her how I fell from the tree. She nodded at me, and it confirmed that she did, in fact, see what I showed her.

“Gran, Sam, and I are going to go to your meeting together tonight.” She told her.

Her grandmother looked surprised at this development. Then her eyes fell on the clock. “Oh, my heavens! Is that the time? Everlee will be here any minute to take me to the church. Now Jane dear, you just make yourself at home, and I’ll be back later tonight after the meeting.” She said to me, and I heard a car in the driveway.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” I told her.

“Of course.” She left after she gave Sookie a brief hug.

Sookie looked at me and then went up the stairs. I laid on the couch and tried not to think of the pain in my ankle. I closed my eyes. I was used to getting hurt through my shenanigans, mostly just scrapes and bruises. So this latest injury really shouldn’t surprise me. I must have fallen asleep at some point because the sound of the front door being opened woke me up.

Sam and Sookie were dressed nicely, shy, and nervous with each other about their date. Sam didn’t see me, and Sookie didn’t say anything as they left. I lifted the melted peas off my ankle and saw that it had swollen up and turned purple. I couldn’t help but appreciate the color, and I knew that I would need to try to mix that exact shade of aubergine myself once I could get my paints set up. It was definitely broken. I guess I would have to ask someone to take me to the hospital tomorrow.

I shuffled down the hall, still unable to put any weight on it. I found a bathroom. In the medicine cabinet was a Tylenol bottle, so I took one, even though I rarely took any kind of medication. I went back out to the couch. I turned the TV on just to have some noise. I watched an old black and white movie, as it ended, Sookie’s grandmother came home.

“How you doin’ honey?” She asked as she came in.

“I’m pretty sure it's broken. I guess I will have to go to the hospital, but I can wait until morning.” I told her.

She looked at me. “Well, you sure are tough. Can you come into the kitchen? I’ll make you some tea.”

I limped into the kitchen and sat at the table with her. “How did the meeting go?” I asked her. I wasn’t truly very interested, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.

She rambled excitedly. Apparently, Bill wasn’t as boring to other people as he was to me. I sipped at the herbal tea she made me. She almost made me feel excited, but I was in too much pain to truly get invested in her story.

“You’re gonna stay in the guest room tonight.” She insisted. The aching throb of my ankle had me agreeing without a second thought. I was set up in a quaint guest room that was filled with sewing supplies.

I flopped on the bed and checked my cell phone, I still didn’t have any messages from Eric, and I wasn’t too surprised. He had a lot that he had to do tonight, I imagined with the raid and everything. I laid on the lovely homemade quilt, and I examined the perfect and even stitches for a while. I hoped that I could find a one that was a little loose, or twisted in some way, but I didn’t. I rolled myself up in it and tried to force myself to relax. I turned the ringer up on my phone to wake me if I received a message from Eric, and I let myself fall asleep. My dreams were strange and tinged in red pain.

_“You’re hurt.” My silver-eyed friend told me._

_I looked at him, and he had blood tears on his face. I put my hand on his heart. “You’re hurt too.”_

Screams. I bolted upright in the bed - I heard Sookie’s gran yelling, and a man’s voice too. I scrambled up out of bed and drug myself into the kitchen. Sookie’s Gran was lying on the floor, a gruesome pool of blood forming around her. I was stunned for a moment, trying to interpret what I saw - the spray of blood on the cabinets, the multiple stab wounds on her body, and the dark crimson liquid spreading across the linoleum floor. Once my brain fully comprehended what was before me, a scream bubbled up out of my throat, unbidden. Suddenly I was tackled from behind. My head hit the floor with a thud, and a belt went around my throat.

The belt tightened quickly, and I tried uselessly to pull at it with my hands. My airway constricted, and my throat’s hyoid bone felt as if it was bending under the pressure. My mind became a bit fuzzy and hazy as I tried to understand what was being said.

“Fang bangin’ slut. You want to die, don’t you?” A man's voice shouted from above me.

I was being killed because of my bite!? I flailed around, trying to break free. I wasn’t going to die this way! I had to age, and I had to see the passage of time. I had to hold my pencil in my old weathered hand just like I had told my students I would. I was able to get my arm out and grabbed the nearest thing I could find, which happened to be a knife that had fallen from a kitchen block during the struggle. I brought it swiftly back toward the unknown man’s thigh, and my vision started to fade. I heard him scream, and the belt was suddenly ripped from my neck, and I sucked in a painful breath.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” He screamed. Then I heard his thudding footsteps as he retreated. I laid there for a moment, dazed. I heard the sound of a car door. Someone else was coming.

I tried to move, but I couldn't. My body was still working on getting air back into my lungs, and my vision wasn’t starting to clear; if anything, it felt like it might tunnel. I was barely able to lift my head to see Sookie standing there. Her eyes were taking in her grandmother’s body and my near unconscious state.

I didn’t know what happened next, as I was overcome by shock and pain, my body decided to faint. I blinked and then was surrounded by darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A major plot hint was dropped about Jane's character in this chapter. Did you catch it?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, y'all, my Beta reader FumiyoSenka is my guardian angel! We didn't get to revise this chapter as much as we would like, so it may have some slight changes later on, but I'm pleased as punch with how it turned out.

Chap 6

Eric’s POV - Saturday, June 20th, 2009

I stared at my phone as if I could gain activity from it by pure force of will and thought. I had texted Jane three times, and she had still not responded. Impatience winning, I decided to call her. If she was still upset about the glamouring, that was fine, but I would always follow through on my end of our arrangement and make sure that she got her house back from Bill. I was surprised when it wasn’t Jane that answered her phone.

“Hello?” a woman's voice said.

“This is not Jane,” I replied after a brief pause.

“No, it’s Sookie Stackhouse,” the woman’s voice responded. Ah, the sugary human that Bill brought with him to the club. Now, why did she have my human’s phone?

“Where’s Jane?” I asked.

“She’s fine; she’s just wakin’ up,'' Sookie said. “She was...she was strangled.”

A flicker of rage ran through me before I quickly quashed it. She was strangled, like the other women that someone murdered, the women that had come to the bar.

“Where is she?” I asked, already moving towards the door and preparing to fly.

“My house. End of Hummingbird road in Bon Temps...” she said as I hung up before Sookie could finish her sentence. I rushed out of the club without even bothering to tell Pam, and I flew there as fast as I physically could. Wind resistance barely a caress on my skin, I resisted the urge to growl and let a scowl overtake my face. Gods, claiming a human was always more work than I remembered, trying to keep their delicate bodies from breaking. I reached my destination of Sookie’s home quickly, expanding my senses and taking a deep breath to scent the air before landing - the charming old white house smelled strongly of blood and fear. Walking towards the Stackhouse residence, I saw that Sookie, the Shifter that owned the local bar, and Bill Compton were standing on the porch.

Walking towards them, I asked immediately, “Where’s Jane?”.

“She’s inside. She was conscious long enough to give her statement to the Sheriff and to tell us that she didn’t want to go to the hospital, and then she was out again,” Sookie said.

“What happened?” I demanded, using my no-nonsense Sheriff voice.

“My Gran…” Sookie swallowed. “She was murdered.”

Reigning back the severity of my tone, “My condolences,” I offered her politely.

“The killer tried to get Jane too. But somehow, she stabbed him. He got away, though,” the Shifter said.

“I would like to see her.”

Sookie nodded before she walked into the house to fetch Jane rather than inviting me in. She must know about the invitation rule, and Bill looked rather pleased that Sookie didn’t invite me into her home. Making a mental note as to his behavior, and stared him down until the pleased look slowly drifted from his face - he was certainly up to something.

Satisfied that Bill’s momentary glee was quelled, I asked Bill and the shifter “Did you recognize the scent of the assailant?”.

“There’s too much blood,” Bill explained. “It’s covering everything else up.”

Damn. Then we still didn’t know who was behind these attacks.

Moments later, Jane came out looking damaged. Her neck already had a purple bruise around it, and she was limping, her ankle swollen and dark—the degree to which I didn’t like this alarmed me. Humans got hurt easily. This, I knew. But actually seeing her…

“Hey Eric,” she said, her voice raw. “How are you?”

It was ridiculous, her asking after me when she looked like Hel warmed over.

As I slowly walked over to Jane, I asked, “Better than you are. I would like to take you with me tonight if you permit me?” and continued to catalog the damage to her person.

She looked back to the house, and then at Bill, and then finally back at me. “Okay,” she agreed with a nod that caused her to wince slightly. Her eyes left mine briefly to meet Sookie’s.

“Sookie...I’m so sorry,” she said, and she looked like she was taking on Sookie’s pain.

“I know,” Sookie replied softly. I swooped Jane into my arms, and she relaxed immediately. An unfamiliar feeling welled inside me as I flew her away, one that I quickly pushed aside for the moment.

Looking down at the ground below us curiously, “Can all vampires fly?” she eventually asked me.

“Can all humans sing?”

“Yes, but not always well,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

I couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped me at her comment. She truly was absolutely delightful!

Inclined to humor her question as we flew, I answered, “Some vampires have special gifts; they usually emerge with age.”

“Oh, that’s kinda neat,” she replied. Pausing a moment, she craned her head with another slight wince to look down again before asking, “Are we going back to your home?”

“Yes,” I told her. We were quite close, as Bon Temps was not far by flight.

After a few minutes of silence, she whispered a soft, “I’m sorry.” I tilted my chin down towards her, indicating I was listening. “About what I said before I left. I’m sensitive. I guess,” she murmured.

Jane still meant what she said before, so I didn’t know how to respond to her confession.

Pausing a moment as I mulled over my response, “I won’t ever glamour you unless absolutely necessary,” I eventually told her. “Tell me what happened tonight.”

She gave me a whispered explanation of how she hurt her ankle and went over to the house, not even knowing that it was where Sookie and her grandmother lived. She told me how the grandmother helped her and how she had accepted her offer to stay the night there because of her broken ankle. Then how she awoke to the sounds of a struggle and then was knocked to the ground and how the man had nearly strangled her with his belt and probably would have if she hadn’t stabbed him. She was tiny and fierce, and I was impressed by how she had defended herself. I was also worried she had more internal damage I couldn’t see, possibly a brain injury.

We finally arrived at the nest, but I didn't set her down - I didn’t think she could be trusted to stand under her own power. I easily shifted her around in my arms and entered the code to get into the house. She made no move to try to look to see what it was. I liked that she had no interest in learning the security protocols. It made me trust her more. When we entered, I could see Pam was sitting on the couch, watching reality TV.

“What the fuck happened to her?” Pam said after she looked over at my arrival and took in Jane’s state.

“Hi, Pam,” Jane whispered, her throat still raw. “I was strangled.”

Pam looked at me before breaking out into a grin, “Did you kill them?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I replied, barely breaking stride as I took Jane down the hall to the bed that she had slept in last night.

Setting her down gently onto the bed, I saw her wince and heard her soft exclamation of pain through gritted teeth. She was in immense pain, and it made me furious. She was under my protection, and she was hurt terribly - she could have been killed! I was not fulfilling my promise and duty to her. I claimed her as mine, drank her blood, but had yet to follow through with what I had promised her in return. It shamed me.

Noticing my frustration, she lightly grasped my hand. “Eric,” she said, “It’s okay. It will pass.” She read me too well. It was so odd. Most humans couldn't tell what I was feeling from my blank face. Her hand came and cupped my cheek, and it was strangely intimate.

My eyes roaming over her features, I decided then that I would heal her. “What do you know about vampire blood?” I started carefully.

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know. They said all kinds of wild stuff on the TV, and I don’t think it’s all true. I know that some people take it as a recreational drug, that it’s strong.” she murmured. “I think maybe it can heal people?” she guessed, a curious tilt to her voice.

My eyes narrowed ever so slightly as I watched her. “Why do you think it can heal?” I asked her, that was a closely guarded secret of the vampire community.

She looked away, gaze lowered, and a thoughtful look crossed her face. “The vampire, the one that I met, that bit me...he offered me his blood after, to heal the bite marks. I didn’t seem right, so I didn’t accept it.”

I made sure to control my surprised reaction to her answer, expression carefully blank. That was startling news, as most vampires would not offer their blood after just one meeting. She must have made quite an impression on this vampire, or he had been trying to make her his. I could understand why, but it was unusual for a human to refuse such an offer.

Taking a seat next to her on the bed, I gently took her hand in mine. “Vampire blood can heal. For those who are not injured and take it, it is like a highly addictive recreational drug. Vampires can also use it to influence humans. It will heighten the feeling that the human has for the vampire. It makes them have dreams of the vampire. The blood is sacred to vampires. Giving the blood to a human will allow a vampire to sense the human and where they are, and their emotions. The older the vampire, the more they will be able to feel from the human, although it peaks about my age,” I explained to her. “It is very...meaningful.”

She stared at me with her aquamarine eyes. I had no idea what she thought of all the information I just gave her. She was impossible to read, and I couldn’t decide whether I liked that about her or not yet.

Leaning forward slightly, I let the seriousness of my thoughts come across in my expression, “I have failed you. I offered you my protection and my services, and I have given you neither, yet I have reaped the benefit of you belonging to me,” I continued softly.

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy,” she excused.

“I would like to offer you my blood, just enough to heal you. You should know that I will be able to sense you and your emotions. It will also allow me to find you, which considering the circumstances of tonight’s incident, and that the killer escaped, I feel it would be prudent.”

I stilled, recognizing how vulnerable I felt at that moment. I was offering Jane a piece of myself, and I feared she would reject me.

“Eric...” she murmured, “I’m scared to take your blood. I don’t like feeling like I don’t have control. I would rather feel the pain than feel like I don’t have control of myself. That’s why I barely drink.”

I nodded. I had learned this about Jane - she needed control to feel safe.

“I will not give you enough that you will feel out of control. I am concerned that you have a concussion.”

“My head hurts,” she agreed. “This, sharing your blood...is a big deal, isn’t it?” she hesitantly asked, her eyes darting back and forth between mine as she tried to read my expression.

I nodded, “Yes. Other vampires will be able to smell my ancient thousand-year-old blood in you, and it will offer you additional protection and mark you as mine further.”

She thought about that. “I wish my head didn’t hurt so much so I could think about this better,” she said.

I couldn’t help the slight grin that slid across my face, “If you take my blood, then your head won’t hurt,” I said slyly, and she chuckled out a pained little laugh.

“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked.

“It may increase your senses for the first day, but that will fade. And…”

I considered not telling her about blood bonds, but I figured now was the time as I saw keeping her for quite a while.

“This will count as our first blood exchange, as I still have your blood in me,” I said. “It usually takes around three exchanges of blood for a blood bond to form.”

“What is that? A blood bond?” she asked.

“It is a tie between a human and a vampire. It allows them to sense each other's feelings and locations and feel deeply connected. It is not common, as most vampires do not like sharing their innermost feelings with a human, and it is another reason why the blood is sacred.”

“So, if you give me your blood tonight, you could only do it once more without having a bond form?”

I nodded.

“The bond, is it permanent?”

“It fades, but it always remains, even as the tiniest thread unless the human dies.” I swallowed uselessly, thinking of Sylvie. Her bond had remained, haunting and empty, for a few days even after her death.

Jane thought some more, and I could tell she took this very seriously. I liked that she thought about things deeply. I thought she was going to refuse the offer of my blood. I had never had a refusal before. I could see the cogs of her mind turning. She was unlike any human that I had ever met.

“Promise that you won’t give me too much?” she asked, and I was surprised that she was going to agree.

“I will not give you too much,” I promised her.

“I accept the offer of your blood,” she said softly, and I felt honored by her. She understood and respected this moment.

I bit my wrist gently, and I moved it to her mouth. She drank my blood, and I suppressed a moan I felt as my blood entered her. Gods, to feed her this way. My blood was winding through her, becoming part of her. Her pupils wide, like two dark coal’s shining out from her angelic face. What a contradiction she was, with that look on her face, both innocent and sinful. I removed my wrist from her mouth, and she licked my blood from her small pink lips. I swallowed hard. I could feel her pain dissipating, and I could feel her attraction to me. Her breath was coming out in little puffs, and her heart was thrumming.

I got the impulse to kiss her then. I wanted to feel the hot heat of her mouth against mine.

“Eric...” she said, stopping me, and then I felt it. Had I not been a thousand years old, I would not have been able to feel her so profoundly. There was a tendril of apprehension, of hesitation. She didn’t want me to kiss her. I moved away from her and the anxiety dissipated. I sighed. She confused me. On the surface, there was nothing special about her, a teacher in her twenties. Her blood type wasn’t rare, but it wasn’t uncommon; I had AB negative blood many times before. No, there was just something that I didn’t understand about her. She was an enigma wrapped in a pretty blonde riddle.

“I will let you rest now,” I told her, feeling her tiredness.

“It wasn’t what I expected,” she whispered. “I thought maybe it would be like drinking wine, or that one time I accidentally had a pot brownie.”

I laughed. “No?”

“It was...I could feel you inside of me,” she said, and her arousal rose. “It was very...I understand what you mean now. When you say, the blood is sacred.”

Most humans did equate blood with drugs or alcohol. Even Sylvie said I was better than their finest Merlot. I watched Jane then, trying to understand what she was telling me. I had made sure to follow through on the promise not to give her too much. Whatever she had felt, it wasn’t the intoxicating effects. For her to say it was sacred, what did that mean? She was trying to tell me that she was feeling connected? To me?

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, and I closed the door.

I went out to the living room. Pam was still there, and she looked at me curiously.

“Did you give the blood?” she asked.

“She had a concussion,” I replied.

Pam scoffed. I gave her a look of warning.

Just then, I got a call from Isabel. Godric’s second in command in Dallas. I went out on the patio away from my spoiled progeny to answer the phone.

“Isabel,” I said, answering.

“Eric. Have you spoken with Godric recently?” she asked.

“Not recently, no.” I started thinking about how I needed to tell him about Jane.

“I would recommend that you do. Ever since The Fellowship of the Sun’s Reverend was killed, things here have been...tense.”

Ah, that must mean Godric was on the warpath. I remembered those times when even the slightest provocation would set him off and how breathtakingly bloody they were.

“I see,” I responded. “I’ll call.”

“If you could move your visit up, I would recommend that as well,” she said, and I could tell that things were indeed bad.

“Very well. Thank you for calling,” I told her.

“Please, Eric. He’s spiraling.”

She hung up.

I called Godric then before something else came up.

“Eric,” Godric answered, and by his tone, I could tell he was already in deep introspection.

“Are you on your bench?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he replied. “Why have you called?”

He didn’t want to be interrupted.

“I’ve...well, I’ve claimed a human,” I told him.

Godric didn’t respond. There was muted silence, and it wasn’t the first time that I regretted that he had closed off his Maker’s bond from me. It was a natural, regular part of evolving as a vampire, and Godric had closed it when he had considered me raised, but occasionally I missed knowing his feelings. I could still feel it’s strong tether of his presence in my heart, but I could not follow it to him or feel anything from him anymore.

“Why?” he finally asked.

“She needed my help, and she has quite delicious blood. It’s a nice arrangement,” I told him.

“Take your duty to her seriously, Eric,” Godric warned me, reminding me very much of how he was when he was raising me.

“Of course,” I replied. “How are things?” I asked him, seeing if he’d spill anything about what Isabel said.

“Tense,” he replied. “I’ve had to turn Stan’s progeny over to the Magister, although it is all too obvious that he killed the Newlin family on Stan’s orders.”

For Stan to allow his progeny to take the fall for him showed his real lack of character.

“Have you punished Stan for this as well?” I asked him.

“I have revoked all of his hunting privileges. He holds on here by the mere thread of his understanding of the brutal ways of the vampires of Dallas,” Godric explained coolly. No hunting privileges in Dallas meant that ‘Stan the Slaughterer’ lived on Tru Blood and bags of donor blood, and he was essentially defanged.

“Why not just remove him from Dallas?” I asked.

“It would cause more problems than it would solve,” he replied.

Politics.

“I was thinking I may come early for our next visit.”

“Very well. You know where I’ll be.” I could tell he wanted to go back to his brooding. “Do not come smelling of your human,” he ordered. He couldn’t stand the smell of most of them. He said that much of their scents these days were so polluted with cigarettes, the overconsumption of processed foods and alcohol that they almost made him gag. His sense of smell had continued to strengthen with age. He could barely even let donors or claimed humans into the nest if he found their scent offensive.

“I won’t. I will talk to you soon.” I promised him.

“Yes. Goodnight, Eric,” Godric said as he hung up.

Dawn was approaching. I could feel Jane...she was aroused. I went in to see that Pam had gone to the ground, and I looked into the bedroom. Jane had changed into one of my shirts again, it was riding high on her thighs, and I could see her innocent cotton panties. She moaned in her sleep. I was about to leave, feeling as though I was invading her privacy when she said my name in a breathy demanding plea.

“Eric.”

It seemed like the blood had already worked its way into her system and was giving her a dream of me — an arousing one at that.

“Please..” she begged, and I could smell her aroused state. She must be dripping. “I need it.”

Gods. I had to know.

“What do you need?” I whispered, wondering if it would enter her dream

She moaned. “You, inside of me. Please.”

I abruptly stood up and walked away. I breathed out. I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

********  
Jane’s POV - Saturday, June 20th & Sunday, June 21st, 2009

_Eric was lying on the bed next to me, and I was sketching his nude form. I would trail my hands over him to make sure I was getting every dip and curve of his muscles just right._

_“Have you drawn this yet?” he said, indicating his large erect cock._

_“Not yet,” I said, looking at the drop of fluid on the end._

_He smiled at me with his charming smile. I went to touch him to make sure I got the weight and feeling of his cock right. He hissed when I touched him, and I pulled away._

_“No...it felt good,” he said, and I brought my hand back._

_I moved my sketchbook away and pulled my body toward his. He dipped his head to my neck and pressed his teeth against the skin there, making me moan._

_“Eric...” I pleaded with him. He moved his body over mine. “Please.”_

_He was positioned above me, clearly ready to enter my body. “I need it,” I told him._

_“What do you need?” he asked me, his voice husky._

_“You, inside of me. Please...” I begged._

_He thrust inside of me, and it reminded me distinctly of his bite—the pleasurable piercing._

_“Is this what you needed?” he asked me. “To become one with me?”_

_And I could feel him inside of me, and I could see something in his eyes, a depth and understanding there. I felt like he was inside me more than just bodily - that he was seeing me. I stared into his icy ocean eyes, a thousand years of living behind them._

_“Why did you want me to be yours?” I asked him, his hand coming between us to rub me. I moaned again. It was so much._

_“Because you are unique,” he said. “I saw that in you. You are not of this world.”_

_“I’m not special,” I tried to disagree, but his hand was working over me in a way that made me want to scream. “I’m not—”_

_“You are!” he roared at me. “You must learn to accept that you are different.”_

_I was teetering on the edge of bliss. He was holding me right at the precipice._

_“Please, Eric,” I begged him, but he was looking too far into my soul. He saw me too deeply._

_“You are special, and I can prove it to you,” he claimed, and then he pressed his fangs against the juncture of my neck, and I felt myself explode on him._

I woke up, blinking. Eric did say I would have dreams. I laid in bed, trying to analyze what it meant. I had intense sexual feelings for Eric, but I also wanted him to see me. I didn’t want to be just another notch in the thousand-year-old vampire’s bedpost.

Then there was the idea of being unique. I didn’t see myself as special, only in how all people are special, different, and unique from one another. ‘We were all snowflakes, floating down to earth. All created to be unique, each holding significant worth.’ I mulled I wasn’t unlike most people - I wanted to feel happy and safe, to experience camaraderie and connection. People were people, and I wasn’t any different. I rather disliked the idea that, for some reason, Dream Eric was trying to make me think that I was.

I got up to shower, and I used the green soap. I noticed a set of my rose scented shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. That was odd. I got out wrapped in a towel. I couldn’t stand to put my clothes from yesterday back on. They smelled too much like fear sweat, so I stole a pair of Eric’s boxers and folded them up around the band a few times until they wouldn’t slip off of me. Then I put a shirt of his on, tying it at the front, so it wasn’t too long. I went out, and I didn’t see Eric up yet, or Pam anywhere. I went to the kitchen to see a couple of apples in a bowl on the counter that hadn’t been there before. I snagged one and bit it. It was juicy and delicious. I felt a little ridiculous as the juice from it ran down my hands and face, but it didn’t see any napkins or paper towels, so I just ate it over the sink. I nibbled it down to the core and then washed my hands.

When I turned around, Eric was standing there watching me. He was shirtless and had just got up.

“You’re looking healed,” he replied, his eyes scanning me, and I felt like he was looking at me with more than my health in mind.

“I feel healed. These apples are delicious,” I said.

“They’re for you,” he said. “There is also other food for you in the cabinet now.”

Did he buy food for me? I opened the cabinet and moved to climb on the counter, but he had already lifted me up so I could look. My heart thumped hard, and I felt my nipples tighten, and I was sure that Eric would feel me, but I couldn’t help my body’s reaction to him. I looked in the cupboard, and there was now some yummy looking canned organic vegetable soups and some cans of organic peaches and other fruit.

“Wow. Thanks,” I said. Eric lifted me down and set me, so I was sitting on the counter, and he stood between my knees.

“Have you felt the effects of blood?” Eric’s ocean eyes were boring into me.

I felt myself blush as I stared at him. “Yes,” I told him.

His hand moved high on my thigh, where his bite marks were, and he caressed them. I could hear myself breathing hard.

“May I drink from you again?” he asked, still stroking me.

I nodded. I wanted him to bite me.

He scooted up the leg of his boxers, and I wondered how much of me he could see. He bent his head and licked my skin there, and without waiting long, he punctured me with his fangs, and I was moaning. He moved my leg up so my foot was flat on the counter, and I felt his other hand pushed against my opposite thigh. I was extremely exposed and aroused.

“Ughhgah,” I heard myself say as he was pulling blood from me, making me ache. I wanted more. I wished I could touch myself. I felt myself connecting with him again, almost as if I was feeling my blood in him. I could tell how much he enjoyed drinking from me, the satisfaction he felt at the taste of my blood, the feel of my body beneath his hands. This was more than simple sustenance.

His fangs scraped against me, and I felt myself get even closer. “I can feel you,” he murmured against my thigh. “I can feel how close you are.”

“I...I ..” I tried to speak, but I couldn’t.

“Let me touch you,” his voice was hushed against my skin. He looked up at me, and I nodded. I couldn't help it. I was so worked up and so close. He had barely pressed his thumb against my clit through the leg of his boxers, and I was coming. I heard him groaning with me as he said something in a language I didn’t recognize. I slid limply off the counter, and he cradled me in his arms as he brought me to the couch. There he finished licking my thigh clean, and I let my heartbeat settle.

I felt disappointed in myself. I wasn’t this kind of person. I didn’t just let people touch me for the sheer pleasure of it. I wanted there to be more between my sexual partner and me other than mutual gratification. I didn’t want to get hurt again, physically or emotionally. My pain had taught me that lesson. I was sure that Eric wasn’t looking for more between him and a human. I understood that about him right away.

“You’re...disappointed?” he asked, confused.

“I’m just not like this,” I told him. “I’m not someone who does this. I want—“

“Connection,” he said, remembering what I had told him. “Do you not feel the connection between us?”

I sighed. I did. I just wasn’t sure how much of that was me just connecting to Eric, just like before, my first time. I didn’t want to repeat my mistakes.

“I don’t know,” I said cautiously.

He looked at me blankly. “It was not my intention to push you too far,” he said. “Feeling you through the bond...it took me to the edge as well. It was selfish of me.”

Did he? I looked down, there were dark splotches against his sleep pants, and I blushed hotly. Oh, God. I made him come through his blood residing inside me and our connection...he could feel me that intensely?

“You’re so embarrassed. You might as well be a virgin,” he said as he stroked my flushed cheek. “Your skin is so warm. I feel as if I could burn my hand on you.”

I didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. “I’m not a virgin,” I sighed. “I just. I want to learn from my mistakes,” I told him, and he nodded.

Pam came out and looked at us with a knowing smirk. “Smells amazing out here.”

“Pamela. Be polite,” Eric admonished her. I realized that she could probably smell what we did.

“Of course,” she said dryly. “I’m going to see my pet, and then I’ll meet you at the club. Bruce left a message for you saying to call and that it was important.”

“Very well. I will not be coming in tonight,” he explained to her. “Or tomorrow. I need to go to Dallas.”

“Longshadow and I will handle things then.” She looked at me with a lascivious smile, “Bye, Doll,” and then she entered the code and was gone.

“You’re not going to the bar?” I asked.

“No. We’re going to get your house back,” he said as he stood to his full height, and I had to look away from him. He was too handsome for his own good. “I’m going to shower.” He gave me a much too charming smile and swaggered away. I sighed and flopped back down on the couch. I felt so aroused still! I wondered if that was an effect of the blood? I was going to ask him when he came back. I wished I could wash my clothes. I would ask about that too.

As my mind wandered, my hand slipped into the front of my stolen boxer shorts, and I was stroking myself before I even knew what I was doing. I was already so wet from my earlier release that it was easy, quick, and slick. I was...well, a bit of an expert at this. After my terrible first experience, I relied on myself for my own satisfaction for years now, and I knew just what I liked. I had worked myself over, and I came quickly, thinking of Eric’s large, talented hands, and in mere moments I was clenching around my fingers. Jesus! What was wrong with me? Was I masturbating on the couch at my vampire associate’s house? I was losing it.

Eric came out a few moments later, showered and dressed, and he came directly over to me and brought my hand straight to his face as he was scenting me deeply.

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” He nearly barked at me, and I saw a wild look in his eye. “I could feel you. You made me come again. I nearly ripped down the shower curtain.”

I swallowed. I had forgotten that he would be able to feel me.

“Is this a side effect of the blood?” I felt the heat suffuse my face again. “I”m...not generally like this.”

He shook his head. “It only heightens what’s already there.”

I wanted to hide. “I thought maybe it was the blood…”

“No, your pent up needs are clearly rising to the surface. I will only just request that you...check with me before you see these needs yourself. I do have important meetings, and it would not be great to repeat what happened in the shower just now during one. I would rather not close off the feelings from the blood,” he explained, and I couldn’t help but giggle, imagining the scenario he described.

“Okay,” I agreed.

He looked at my hand intensely, and he was still sniffing it, and he looked a little wild. “If you don’t go wash up, I’m going to lick your hand clean.” His low voice sent a frizzle of arousal down my spine, and it felt like a mixture of a threat and a promise. I got up and washed my hands in the kitchen using the harsh soap.

“Better?” I asked, holding out my hands after I dried them.

“I would not say better, but it appears that I won’t be licking your delicious release from your fingers today.” He grinned, and my insides clenched, and heartbeat thudded in my ears. I swallowed and tried to repress all these sexual feelings.

“Umm...do you think I could wash the clothes that I wore yesterday here before we leave?” I changed the subject.

“Yes. The laundry is this way,” he led me to a door off the side of the kitchen. “The housekeeper usually does the laundry on Mondays, but you’re welcome to wash and dry your clothes.” He showed me the washer and dryer. “This is the soap to add, and I have some that I’ve purchased for you to take with you as well,” he explained, gesturing to a small bag by the door.

“Okay. Let me go get my clothes...” I started, but in a flash, he was gone and already back with them. I put them in and just a small amount of the soap and started it.

“It shouldn’t take too long.” I listened as the basin filled with water. Eric was watching me, and then he turned away.

“I need to do some work. I will be in my office. Feel free to watch the television.” I nodded, and then in another flash, he was gone.

I went back to the living area and sat on the floor, and looked at all the art and objects he had displayed in the open space. I got a feeling as if each piece cataloged a period of time. A cameo brooch displayed on a small shelf reminded me of Pam for some reason. An ax mounted above the fireplace looked as if it belonged to a Viking. I could help but want to reach up and touch it. I ran my finger along the blade and was surprised to find that it was sharp enough still that it cut me.

As soon as I saw the blood well out of my finger, Eric was by my side.

“Can’t leave you alone for a second,” he chastised, and he brought my finger to his mouth. I tried not to moan at the feeling of his mouth against my skin.

“Mmm…” he rumbled as he released my finger. “Do not touch Feigr again,” he warned me.

“Feigr? The ax has a name!” I exclaimed. I looked back over at it.

“Yes,” he replied, absently examining my finger. I saw that his mouth had made it clot.

“I won’t touch it again.” I went to look at the other things he had out, and he went back to the office. I once again was drawn back to the Da Vinci, and I sat and stared at that bird until I thought that it might fly right off the page before me. It was magical.

Eric came out, and I went and moved my clothes to the dryer. He was on the phone. “Question all of them, Pam.” He was demanding. “Use your glamour. It’s too much money to go missing to be an accident.” His tone was sharp. Then he yelled a bunch of words in Swedish and hung up.

I didn’t say anything, but he told me anyway. “Sixty thousand dollars has gone missing from Fangtasia’s books.”

“Oh.” That was a lot of money to have missing. “Who would try to steal from you?” I asked. Anyone who had been around Eric would know that he would find them, catch them, and they would face his wrath.

“It is quite troubling...It must be an ignorant human.” He said. “No vampire would try such a stunt.”

Probably. All the vampires there were terrified of him.

“We will see what Pam finds out tonight.” He said, clearly trying to let it go. He went to the mantle and flicked a switch that lit the gas fireplace. He sat on the couch and stared into the flames. I went and sat in front of the fire. I loved watching the flames dance and crackle. After a while, I looked back and saw that Eric wasn’t watching the fire but that he was watching me instead. I looked at him, and his face was hard to read, but I saw something there, a protective gleam, a hint of appreciation, and just an intense inquisitive look that made me feel as if I was under a microscope.

I got up and found that my clothes were mostly dry. I put them on in the bedroom, and when I came out, Eric had a bag for me. He handed it to me and inside was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hairbrush.

I smiled. I went and brushed my teeth, and I came out, brushing my hair. Eric grabbed my hand and stopped me.

“You’re doing that wrong.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m brushing my hair wrong?”

He sat me on the floor in front of him as he sat on the couch, his long legs on either side of me. He started brushing my long hair at the ends and then worked gently up. It did feel much nicer, and my hair wasn’t making that horrible ripping sound. I closed my eyes and tried to remember if I had ever had my hair brushed before. My mind pulled up a hazy recollection of my mother, of her humming a soft melody and brushing my hair in the same way. The memory itself was watery and weak, but I could more strongly remember the feeling associated with it, and it was a feeling I could not name. It was warmth and peace, and I hadn’t felt it since.

I focused on the sensation of the moment, and Eric started brushing my scalp. It felt absolutely divine. He then began to braid my fine blonde locks back into a neat french braid. I looked over my shoulder and saw that he was lost deep in thought. He had me hold the end of the braid, and he got a hairband and tied it off.

“Thank you,” I told him over my shoulder.

He merely nodded.

“Shall we go get your house?” He asked. I nodded excitedly. He looked at my clothes. “Will you be warm enough?”

“Are we going to fly?” I asked.

“Yes, that would be quickest.”

I rubbed my bare arms. “I’ll be fine.”

He grabbed a sweater from his closet and put it on me, rolling up the sleeves. I felt like I was a child that was playing dress up in their parent’s closet. He looked at me and shook his head. “Cute, like a china-doll.”

I had been told I looked cute a lot. I had a babyface and round eyes, and it wasn’t the first time someone had told me I looked like a doll. I tried not to feel disgruntled at being called cute by him.

“I can tell that you didn’t take that as a compliment.” We went toward the door. He grabbed my bag with my new green soap. “It was meant as one.”

“I know.” I shrugged. He put in the code and gestured me out the door. He pulled me into his arms, and we were flying again. I tried to keep my eyes open, but it was too tricky against the wind, so l closed them. The flight was much shorter than the drive.

“Where is this house exactly?” He asked as we got closer.

“It’s right across from where I was yesterday, just through the graveyard,” I told him.

“Alright.” He directed his flight path and held me a little tighter. I could help but feel aroused at the length of his body next to mine, and I wriggled slightly.

“No wiggling.” He admonished me lightly.

I smiled at him, and he grinned.

We reached the house, and he set me down.

“You’re kidding. This is the house you want?” He looked at it with disgust.

“It’s beautiful. It needs some work—” I started.

“Some work? Does it have working electricity? Plumbing?” He asked, and we stepped on the porch, which creaked threateningly under his weight.

“I know that it’s wired for electricity, but it’s not working right now. I think the plumbing is okay, though...I’m not sure.” I explained.

I looked at the door. Should I knock? I still had the skeleton key. I got the key out. I loved keys. I used to collect them. I thought that something about them was a little magical; how it had to fit just perfectly to make the lock open. I had spent a lot of time examining keys and learning what they went to locks, doors, safes. It was a silly pastime, and I had given it up when I had realized it was becoming an obsession, but I still loved the weight of the heavy skeleton key in my hand, as if I could unlock the magic of my house with just the twist of my wrist.

“He’s not here,” Eric told me, reading my expression.

“He’s not?”

“No, we’ll have to wait. Go ahead and open it.” He had a sense of anticipation about him as if this was a test of some sort.

I did, and he waited awkwardly on the threshold. “Eric come in and look at the banister,” I told him, and he entered. I showed him the house, and he looked less than impressed.

“You’ve gone through a lot to get this rather disappointing pile of bricks.” He said as he examined the peeling wallpaper.

I sighed. “You’re just not looking hard enough. You only see the surface. Look deeper. Look past at what is and look and see what could be.” I told him, and I saw him roll his eyes. I discussed the changes I wanted to make with him, how I would like to restore the hardwood floor, and the crown molding. He humored me, but I could tell that he was feeling impatient, perhaps worried.

“Do you want to call Pam?”

“I actually would.” He looked at me suspiciously.

“Go ahead. I’m sure you’re wondering how things are going.” I said as I plopped on the worn-out couch. He went out to the creaky porch, and I thought about what I was going to do. I would need to drive to Dallas and pack up my apartment! I was going to move in here. I would be fine without electricity for a bit, but I could get an electrician out and get an estimate. I had all three months of my summer pay all once. I just had to be careful of what teacher’s called the September squeeze when you didn’t get your first paycheck of the school year until the end of September.

It was pretty late, so I decided to close my eyes on the couch and nap a little. As I drifted off, I could feel myself start to fall into another dream.

_Eric was burying his fangs into my thigh, and I was immediately aroused, my body singing at the sensation._

_“You’re delicious.” He said. “Can I taste you here as well?” He asked, his hand stroking between my legs._

_“Oh…” I moaned. “Umm..”_

“Jane.” Eric was above shaking my shoulder, looking at me with dilated eyes. “You were dreaming.”

I blushed deeply. “Yes.”

“Of me?” He asked rakishly.

“Yes,” I told him, still embarrassed.

“Mmm…” He said, and he looked like he wanted to ask more.

“What time is it?” I stretched.

“Near dawn. That’s why I woke you. When Bill comes back tonight, I want you to rescind his invitation to the house.”

“What?” I was still too sleepy to understand what he meant.

“Tell him that you rescind his invitation.” He repeated.

“And he’ll be forced to leave?” I raised my eyebrow skeptically.

“He should. If he does not, I will come up with another way to get rid of him. He must have been invited in by the previous owner, but now that you are the owner, you should be able to uninvite him.”

Eric seemed confident that this would work, but I wasn’t so sure.

“What if he just glamours me?” I prompted, which was my biggest fear.

“Give him this letter.” Eric held out a folded piece of paper.

“What does it say?”

“It’s a threat against him if he glamours you. And I will know if he has.” Eric grinned in a promising way. Almost as if he hoped that he got to wreak some of his all-consuming justice down on Bill.

“Where will he go if he comes back close to dawn?” I didn’t want him in my house, but I also didn’t want to be responsible for his death.

“He can sleep in the ground. In the graveyard.” Eric gestured to the cemetery that was just across the way.

I nodded. I guess that made sense.

“I will be in Dallas tomorrow night. If you have problems, I will feel your fear. It is a little less than an hour flight, so try not to get into too much trouble.” His tone was joking, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness.

“Okay. What should I do if things go badly with Bill?”

“I will call you tomorrow and check-in. I will question you to find out how things went, but Bill won’t cross me.” I wished I had Eric’s confidence.

I nodded. I felt pretty apprehensive about Eric leaving me here to deal with Bill alone.

“You will be fine.” He insisted. He had to leave. It was too close to dawn. “Goodday, Jane.” He said, and then I was alone.

I walked through and touched the peeling wallpaper and ran my hand down the banister. It was hard to believe that it was truly mine. I stood for a moment in the empty entryway, wondering about life’s strangeness and the moments that led me to this moment. And I found myself being thankful for death.

Because it was a death that brought me this house, and strangely, it was a death that let me keep it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! As always a big shout out to my Beta reader FumiyoSenka! She very thoroughly edited and revised this chapter, and it is significantly better for it. Updates will be continuing on Wednesdays.

Chap 7

Jane’s POV - Monday, June 22nd, 2009

Surprisingly, Eric’s plan worked. I rescinded Bill’s invitation, gave him Eric’s letter, and he left - very disgruntled, needless to say. The next day, I made an appointment with an electrician who would come out the following day and look over my house. The house was so old that it needed a full inspection, and who knows how many repairs before it started to become safe to live in. I went over to the motel early in the morning to get my suitcase and check out the motel. On my way back to the house, I saw a large gathering of people in the graveyard. Making a mental note, I first took my things into the house before I went out to the cemetery. I saw that the people were leaving. I walked over when I thought that it looked like almost everyone was gone.

It was the funeral service for Sookie’s grandmother. Walking carefully between the graves, I made my way over to Sookie’s grandmothers. The grave dirt was fresh and had an earthy smell, and a fresh bouquet of daisies was lying on the ground next to the grave, ready to be placed on it. I kneeled next to the tombstone and read her name- Adele Hale Stackhouse, only then realizing that I hadn’t known what it was. She had been kind to me when I needed help, and I felt a surge of guilt. I hadn’t been able to help her in return. I wondered for a moment why somebody had killed her; she was just a sweet old lady. Then I thought of the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about Bill and her open, adventurous spirit and decided that whoever this killer was, he must have hated that she was so welcoming to Bill, a vampire. For a moment, I felt woozy when I remember the scene I had discovered—the splatters of her blood on the cabinets and that crimson pool that surrounded her body. She had fought hard against her attacker... I hoped that I would always have that same kind of spirit and fight that she did. I stood there for a moment, feeling a connection to a woman that I had only met briefly, whose life had been snuffed out so callously.

Suddenly I heard a noise near me and lifted my head to look around, observing my surroundings quickly, still on edge from the murder attempt on me. I noticed a handsome young guy sitting in a black truck, leaning over to the glovebox and get something out of it. It looked like a little baggy filled with...pills?. The man acted like he would put whatever he grabbed from the baggy in his mouth before his face twisted into an expression of rage, and he randomly threw the baggy out the window. Suddenly he grabbed the steering wheel and swore a few times before getting out of his truck and started tromping around; I would assume to look for what he threw away.

Brow furrowing, I observed him with confusion and wondered what was wrong with him. I was about to go over and ask if he needed any help, but then Sookie and the bar owner, Sam Merlotte, I remembered, came up to me. They were lowering Sookie’s Grandmother into the ground. Staring at Sookie, I felt overwhelmed by waves of sorrow and loss, and I had to walk away. I also figured my thoughts were probably pretty intrusive for a telepath, and if I were her, I would just want to be alone.

“Thank you,” Sookie called to me over her shoulder, having must have heard my thoughts. I went to my car and bought some simple food from the little market on the way home. Some bananas and granola bars as I didn’t have a working fridge or stove yet.

After I had a quick snack, I went back to the graveyard. It was empty and peaceful now. I wandered around for a while, trailing my hands over rough and weathered headstones, looking at the engravings and the detailed artwork that adorned them. I wondered why folks thought that graveyards were creepy; I found them to be a gorgeous testament to those that had passed, a way to leave a final reminder, a message, and a place to go to remember that person.

I found a particularly riveting poem, engraved in a scrawling script against a smooth white marble headstone. Finding an empty spot nearby, I laid out in a patch of fresh green grass, dappled in soft sunlight, and sketched the unique headstone with the poem that I also copied down precisely.

_Do not stand at my grave and weep._

_I am not there. I do not sleep._

_I am a thousand winds that blow._

_I am the diamond glints on snow._

_I am the sunlight on ripened grain._

_I am the gentle autumn rain._

_When you awaken in the morning's hush_

_I am the swift uplifting rush._

_Of quiet birds in circled flight._

_I am the soft stars that shine at night._

_Do not stand at my grave and cry;_

_I am not there. I did not die_.

Feeling a lump in my throat and my eyes burn from unshed tears, I swallowed a few times as I overcome reading the poem. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I let the words flow over me again - I felt it deep in my bones. When you became part of everything, you could not die. I wondered for a moment about Adele. Was she part of everything? Was she in the sunlight that filtered through the trees? Was that what I was looking for? That eternalness? That connection to everything? I sat there sketching and lost track of time as eventually, the late afternoon turned to early evening, and my phone ringing disrupted my sketching. It was Eric calling.

“I assume by your strange mood that things did not go well,” he said when I answered.

“No, it went just as it was supposed to. I’m just hanging out in the cemetery sketching,” I explained to him. Staring out at the cemetery, I finally hummed out a soft “I’m fine.”

“You feel...Sad and happy,” he stated with a perplexed tone in his voice. It was clear to me that despite knowing my feelings, he still didn’t understand me. That didn’t surprise me. I had only ever felt the connection of someone truly understanding me once, and I wasn’t likely to meet anyone like my silver-eyed vampire ever again.

“I just found a poem on a tombstone that I like,” I tried to explain to him. I heard him sigh and mumble.

“Recount to me what happened with Bill last night,” he demanded in his typical imperious tone.

I told him exactly what happened, and he prodded me on it, and I realized he was checking for logical consistency. To make sure I hadn’t been glamoured. That was comforting.

Seemingly satisfied with my answers, he eventually rumbled out a “Very well, then. I will be leaving for Dallas at first dark.”

Just then, I had an idea. “You’re going to fly, aren’t you?” I asked.

I heard a pause on his end before he responded with a slightly curious, “Yes.”

“I need to go to Dallas too, to pack up my old apartment. Would you...I mean, if it’s not inconvenient, can I come with you?”

There was silence as he thought for a moment. “As long as I can shower at your residence.”

A strange request, but it wouldn’t be a problem. “That’s fine.”

“Be ready by dark,” he said and then hung up. I wondered again if vampires had something against goodbyes on the phone.

Standing up and slowly packing up my drawing supplies after lightly brushing myself off, I started walking back to my house. I took the longer winding path back up to my house, reluctant to leave the cemetery, the setting sun was casting shadows, and the empty graveyard felt like it was my own personal playground, filled with mystery and secrets, just waiting to be discovered. I stopped before my house and examined its old structure and darkened profile. I was mine though now...finally! My house! So fun to think about how it was now mine, truly mine! Running up the porch steps, I burst through the door in my excitement and kicked my shoes off at the door before I jogged upstairs to my bedroom and dressed in jeans and a hoodie so I wouldn’t get cold during the flight. I braided my hair back, not as lovely as Eric had done, but it would keep it from getting tangled.

Just fifteen or so minutes after dark, Eric landed in my yard looking casual in a black jacket and dark jeans, and a satchel slung over his shoulder. All he needed was a hat and whip, and he’d look like a vampire version of Indiana Jones.

“Ready?” he asked, perhaps a bit impatient. Was he still worried about the missing money? I nodded quickly and locked up the house behind me. I pressed the house's old skeleton key into my palm and then tucked it into my purse. It was the most precious key I had ever owned.

We walked out onto the grass, and he pulled me into his arms. “You smell delightful. Like sunshine,” he growled at me.

“Thank you. I guess. I was out in it for a while.”

He mumbled something in a language that didn’t sound like Swedish to me, and then we were in the air.

“You’re going to pack up your apartment?” he prompted me to explain further.

“I had been living in Dallas. I’m going to pack everything up and rent a one-way U-Haul and drive back tomorrow.” I looked up and observed him as I explained my plan.

“Ah.” He nodded.

“Why are you going to Dallas?”

“I have a friend in Dallas.”

“Ah,” I said in response the same way he said to me, he shook his head at me in an amused sort of way, but then he was back to worrying.

“Did Pam find out anything about who stole the money?” I asked.

“No. It’s most disturbing,” he replied, and he clenched his arms around me a little tighter.

I thought for a moment. “You know that woman that Bill brought with him to the club. Sookie Stackhouse?”

“Yes. The one who predicted the raid.”

“I’m pretty sure she can read minds. I wonder if she would help you read the thoughts of your employees and help you figure out who stole the money?” I suggested to him.

“You’re quite clever,” he told me, glancing down at me after he thought for a while.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I said dryly.

He smirked down at me, a barely noticeable chuckle escaping him.

We were making good time; Eric’s speed was still amazing to me. We chatted occasionally, and as we got closer, I directed him to the alley next to my apartment. Once we had landed, we went up the three flights of stairs to my studio apartment. Turning around and gracing him with a smile, I invited him into the apartment cordially, now understanding the strange rule. My apartment was just as neat and tidy as when I left it, the walls covered in carefully arranged sketches, drawings, and paintings. I had pulled many of my ones from last year and hung them artfully in the entryway.

I hung my keys in the wall next to the remainder of my old key collection. I had several vintage keys that I couldn’t entirely give up. Eric was examining my work. I tried not to feel self-conscious, but my art was so personal. I started taping up cardboard boxes, the process going pretty quickly - I didn’t like owning a lot of items. I occasionally would collect something that spoke to me, but I didn’t have use for many things. My clothes, kitchen stuff, and some art supplies. My furniture. Did I even want to bring my old college furniture? It wouldn’t even go with the house. I decided I would just leave it on the curb. It really wasn’t even worth selling.

Now that I wasn’t bringing any furniture, it felt silly to rent a vehicle for just my boxes of clothes, art supplies, and kitchen things. Maybe I could go to the shipping store and get everything mailed to me? That would be a lot easier. If I worked hard, I could get it done by tonight.

“I understand you a little bit more now,” Eric said suddenly, breaking me out of my train of thoughts and almost startling me. I had been so lost in my head with my plans I had nearly forgotten he was there. “You like broken things.”

“No,” I replied automatically. “I just don’t think they’re broken.”

He stared at me for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking. Then seeming to make some decision on me, his gaze drifted to the rest of the apartment, and he started to move around the apartment more, observing what else I had in it.

Stopping in front of the bathroom, “Can I use your shower?” he asked. I saw him take a bottle of scent erasing green soap from his bag, motioning slightly with his hand.

Nodding, I motioned to the bathroom door, “Sure, just in here, you have to jiggle the handle a little,” I told him.

“Thank you.” Walking into the bathroom, he had to stoop slightly at the door frame, the apartment obviously not built with towering Vikings in mind.

Eric occupied for the moment with his shower, I went back out into the living area to continue packing. I started by packing my watercolors and my brushes.

“Jane.” I heard Eric’s voice call. My brows raised in curiosity, I wandered back into the bathroom...only to see he was completely nude. I looked away quickly, only getting a glimpse of his pale flesh, and felt a blush rush across my cheeks.

“Eric!” I yelped, covering my eyes.

“I just need your help with the shower,” he said. “You have seen a naked man before, haven’t you?” Of course, I had seen nude men for a college drawing class, but this was entirely different circumstances. I uncovered my eyes and studiously avoided looking at him, and attempted to distract myself from looking at the expanse of his perfect statue-like body.

I jiggled the handle, and the shower started. I looked up at Eric’s face and noticed that he was extremely amused, his trademark smirk crawling across his face.

It was all rather ridiculous, wasn’t it?

“If that’s all…” I turned to go, but he gently grabbed me by the wrist and lightly tugged me back.

There was a moment of tension between us before he finally spoke, his thumb rubbing against my hand.

“If I asked you to join me, what would you say?” he asked, his low voice rumbling right through me. I felt arousal rush through me as my fingers started to tingle in anticipation of touching him. I was certain Eric could hear my heart thumping rapidly in my chest. Join him in the shower? I was torn between desire and panic, and my fear won out.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I took a deep breath before answering him, “Eric..please,” I said, wishing he hadn’t asked. “I...I’m not ready.”

He quickly released me, and I sped to the door. As I reached the doorframe, I heard his voice say.

“Not ready...yet.”

Pausing at either his confidence in himself or certainty in me, I grabbed the handle in a death grip, and I closed the door behind me firmly.

I released a breath of air. Whew. That man...I felt drawn to him like a magnet—a moth to a flame. I couldn’t believe I’d only known him for a few days. Honestly, though, I didn’t really know him. I knew some things, and I had a good feeling about him, but I didn’t _know_ him. I felt so worked up. I felt like I was becoming addicted to something I hadn’t even had yet. Taking another deep breath, I tried to center myself and suppress my arousal, forcing my muscles to unclench and relax. After a moment, I let out a frustrated huff - it wasn’t working well. I wondered if Eric was feeling my emotions? Letting out a soft snort at what his reaction likely would be, I shook my head and walked back into the living room.

I got back to work on packing my art supplies, definitely not thinking about Eric and his naked body in my shower...

Hearing the bathroom door open, I could not prevent myself from watching him as he came out. A towel wrapped around his waist, he leaned down to grab his bag and rifle through it. My throat felt dry as I scanned the width of his shoulders and the ripples of his abs, the muscles flexing as he moved. His long hair was damp and dripping rivulets of water down his back, and I had the impulse to go and lick the water from his skin. Standing back up, he glanced backward and gave me a heated look before he returned to the bathroom, seeming to take his time on his walk back. When he eventually exited the bathroom, he was wearing fresh clothes, and I realized I could breathe again.

“I am leaving now,” he stated, his eyes raking over my face.

“Okay...are you planning on coming back before going back to Shreveport?” I asked, hoping that he would say yes.

I was getting in deeper, wasn’t I?

“I had planned to stop to pick up my bag.”

Nodding and motioning towards my growing pile of boxes, “I think I might just get rid of my furniture and ship my boxes,” I stated. He looked at my shabby furniture and nodded. “Could I fly back with you tonight?”

He smiled arrogantly, that damn smirk of his back in place. “Of course,” he purred before casually sauntering out.

Shaking my head at him, I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath.

Time to get to work.

*****

Eric’s POV - Monday, June 22nd, 2009

I appreciated the flight to Godric’s mountain benches - it allowed me to get the scent of Jane out of my nose and lungs, if not out of my blood. She was a puzzle. I could feel how badly she wanted me and how afraid of that she was. She had been hurt, and she didn’t trust easily. I wanted her. I wanted to devour her and pleasure her. I briefly wondered if I was starting to go a little mad with wanting her.

When I reached the benches, Godric was already there, but he didn’t look calm or peaceful. He looked pale and agitated. Restlessly pacing back and forth in front of the bench, his right hand was locked around his left wrist, which was never a good sign.

Godric turned towards me, his gaze locked onto mine. “Why did you come early?” he asked immediately. “Did Isabel send you?”

Nothing escaped him.

“She had mentioned that things had been particularly strained,” I told him as I sat on one of the benches, stretching my long legs out before me. Glancing around, I examined the woods around me briefly. I liked it, but not with the same reverence Godric seemed to bestow upon the place.

“Nora finally called me. The Authority is going hard on vampire against human violence. Stan’s progeny is going to meet the true death,” Godric explained. “Stan is going to act like his progeny’s punishment for defying the law of the Authority was my will.”

I nodded. Probably. It was no secret that Godric was against unnecessary violence, especially against those he deemed innocents. However, he was quite harsh against vampires and ruled Dallas with a firm hand. He was especially ruthless when exacting justice. I was a little less inclined to worry about what happened to humans. I believed in a more poetic sense of justice, a what goes around gets brought back around by me when I bite your throat out.

“Godric. You had to turn the culprit over to the Authority. Otherwise, you would have been harboring a fugitive,” I told him. “You took the only course you could.”

Godric looked at me with liquid silver eyes, a knowing expression on his face. I was, of course, telling him things that he was already aware of.

“I abhor the violence of our kind. We only take; we never give,” he said, staring down into the valley below us. I didn’t want to get into a philosophical debate with him. I could never win; it wasn’t worth even trying to go down that road with him. I changed the subject quickly.

“Speaking of giving, I wanted to talk to you about something.” I sighed and crossed my legs at the ankles while leaning back, a relaxed facade that I know Godric would see through, like always. I felt like I had to tell him about giving Jane my blood. “I...had to give my human my blood.”

He looked at me sharply, eyes narrowed and expression stern.

“You gave a human the sacred blood? Why?” he asked me and finally sat down. The giving of blood was not something that Godric would take lightly.

I looked away as my brows furrowed some as I thought of how best to explain Jane. “She was grievously injured. Strangled by a serial killer that’s targeting women that associate with vampires. The other woman that was there with my human was killed. My human only just made it out….I failed to protect her,” I admitted to him softly.

“Humans are inflicting violence on each other now, due to our association with them,” Godric said with a slight growl and shook his head. I frowned, mouth tightening - Godric was missing the point.

“Godric, I have claimed her. She is mine, and she nearly died. I have taken her under my protection, and then I failed her.” I looked into his face and told him my shame, “I dishonored her.”

Watching me closely for a moment, he looked away in deep thought. I could see him ruminating on that.

“How did she react to the blood? Was she eager?” he asked instead of questioning me about my taking my duties seriously. I was grateful that he didn’t feel the need to lecture me.

I shook my head. “I had to convince her. She had a concussion, and it took a lot of explaining. I did not think that she was going to accept my offer,” I told him.

“Hmm...” he said. “So few refuse the blood.” I saw his mouth turn up in the hint of a smile, and then he was back to neutral in a flash.

“I have never had to work so hard to get a human to take my blood, and she was injured. Not that I have offered it often,” I told him, adding the last statement quickly.

“I have only had one refusal my entire existence,” he said, and that hint of a smile came back.

“She...this human…” I shook my head. How could I even begin to explain Jane?

“I don’t know how you can stand their company,” he replied. “I see Isabel’s man. He’s addicted to her, blood and body, constantly clingy, always asking questions. It’s irritating. He can barely be in my presence without pissing himself with fear.”

A blank and distant expression settled on Godric’s face as he struggled to remember what it was like to be human. He spent so little time amongst them anymore he would forget to breathe and blink in their presence. It heightened their prey instincts, and his innate power made them uncomfortable. Any human that was familiar with vampires would be right to be frightened by him.

“My human,” I started to tell him, almost embarrassed to admit it. “She won’t have sex with me.”

His response was a belly laugh, and a deep one at that. I let a sheepish expression cross my face, though it was good to know that he still could laugh that way.

“Ah… Is she more of Pamela’s persuasion?” Godric asked after he finally settled down.

I shook my head. “No, she’s very attracted to me, but she was hurt in the past. She doesn’t trust me.”

Godric’s face went passive after that. “Perhaps she is right not to trust,” he replied. “You will get bored of her eventually.”

I shrugged. She was still such a riddle to me. It was hard to imagine ever getting bored of her. I found her fascinating.

“I find her very compelling, and her blood is delicious.”

“How did you come to claim her? You haven’t claimed a human in decades, and the last time it went very badly.” Godric needlessly reminded me while frowning slightly.

“She came to the bar. She needed help with a vampire that was living in her house. I agreed to help her if she agreed to let me feed from her and be mine,” I explained with a shrug.

“So, she has no interest in vampires in general?” he asked.

“Not particularly. She had been bitten before, but only once,” I told him.

Godric scoffed. “You believed that?”

I paused, rolling his question around in my mind. It hadn’t even occurred to me that she could be lying. She didn’t have any of the human markers of falsehood, no elevated heart rate or sweaty palms. I supposed she could be very skilled, but it seemed unlikely.

“She doesn’t want blood, she doesn’t want to have sex with me - she just wants this ridiculous decrepit old house and for me to keep the vampire that’s her ancestor from glamouring it away from her.”

He nodded. “She could cause major problems for the AVL if she came forward with her accusation.”

“I threatened to go to the AVL with his actions if he did try to glamour her. Her house is safe.”

“So now that she has what she wants, is she going to refuse to be yours?” he asked, always the master of game theory. “That would be the wisest course of action for her.”

“I doubt it. Firstly, because she is still frightened of being glamoured by her ancestor, and secondly, I made sure that when we agreed to the arrangement that it was for the duration of her stay with the house,” I told him with a calculated grin. Godric sighed and shook his head.

“You’re clever. I’ll give you that, but you should explain to her the true depth of what claiming her means,” he replied, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted her to know, at least not yet.

Scoffing, and leaned forward to direct a glare at the valley, “Not as clever as I’d like. Someone has stolen sixty thousand dollars from the bar,” I explained, trying not to let too much of my worry show. It wasn’t so much the money itself - it was the fact that someone thought they could steal from me and had the false courage to do so. “We’re still investigating, but we have no leads yet of who the culprit is.”

Godric made a tsk sound. He was very into wealth building and had diversified many of his investments. He had money in all kinds of tech companies and green energy and typically focused on the long game, although he had been giving a lot of his money away in the last year. At least, according to Isabel, who saw his books.

“We’ll find who it is,” I declared. And they would pay for their crime most severely; I would ensure that.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Godricreplied before glancing out over the valley and then looking down at his wrist to check his watch.

Quirking a brow, I watched him closely. “Are you waiting for someone? Is that why you come here?” I asked him. The thought had just occurred to me.

“No,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. “No one sane person would come up here at night.”

Humming an acknowledgment, I nodded but made a mental note. There was definitely something Godric wasn’t telling me.

Letting my gaze rove over him, I frowned. “When was your last feed?” I asked him, noticing the marble-like quality of his skin.

“I need very little blood,” he replied, as usual, and I felt a spark of irritation at his standard response.

Clenching my jaw, I sighed, “Why do you starve yourself?” I was scared of what his answer would be.

Ignoring my anger, Godric looked back over the valley. “I’ve tried.... I’ve lost the taste for it, I...can’t find anything I like anymore.”

“You’ve tried from the source?” I asked, to be certain.

“Isabel ordered me an AB neg donor last week,” he confirmed. “AB neg is...better, but…” He shook his head. “There’s nothing there. It’s an inauthentic experience. Like paying for sex.”

“You could go and hunt,” I told him. “Hunt for the willing,” I amended when he shot a hawk-like look at me. We used to have to hunt for survival, and no one was ever willing.

“It still feels like a transaction. I want…” He paused and shook his head. “I do not know what I want.”

“Try to explain. For me, Godric,” I asked him, and he looked over at me with a smile, love for us and our bond in his eyes.

“I have spent so much time taking. I want to give. I want an...offering. Without expectation, without guile, just for the moment together, an experience.”

I thought of Jane. When I drank from her, it felt like I was giving, giving her pleasure, giving her a piece of myself as she offered me her blood.

A slight smile crawling across my face, I hummed again. “I know exactly what you mean,” I told him.

He smiled a little at that; he didn’t believe me.

“I hope that you do, child.” He replied. “I hope that you do.”

*******

Jane’s POV - Monday, June 22nd, 2009

I sighed as I collapsed on the floor of my empty spotless apartment. I had packed everything quickly and went to a twenty-four-hour shipping place and paid just as much money as it would have cost to rent a truck, but the boxes would be in Bon Temps in just a day. I had dragged my futon bed, my beat-up coffee table, and my rickety old desk down the three flights of stairs to the curb. Lastly, I had cleaned the whole place until it shined.

Forcing myself to get up, I got in the shower and started rinsing the sweat from my body. Letting out a relieved groan at the heat of the water, I stood under the hot spray and let it wash over my sore muscles.

Hearing the sound of a door, I tilted my head towards the bathroom door. “Jane,” Eric’s voice rang out.

“I’m in the shower. I’ll be out soon,” I shouted at him.

“Very well,” he replied before going silent.

I turned the water off, and I grabbed the tiny towel I had left out. I had no intention of taking it with me, so I figured I’d use it now. I wrapped it around me and stepped out of the shower. Pausing, I remembered I had left out extra clothes on the counter in the kitchen to wear back tonight because I didn't want to wear my grubby clothes from packing and cleaning. I would have to walk right by Eric to get them… Biting my lip I wavered back and forth between my options before I finally shook my head. Spine stiff and straight as a board, I walked out of the bathroom.

Eric was standing in the kitchen, looking at my sketches that I had put on the counter. I had set out a folder beforehand that I had planned on putting my sketches in; I didn’t trust them not to get wrinkled.

Looking up at me as I walked into the kitchen, his eyes trailed up my form before settling on my face for a moment, before looking back down at my sketches. “Why do you draw these things? These lost forgotten things?” he asked a confused tilt to his voice. I smiled, thinking of my silver-eyed vampire, my lost, not so forgotten friend. Frowning, he stared at me, a pensive look growing on his face, “I don’t know what that smile means...it makes me feel…” he trailed off.

“What?” I asked.

“Envious. Of what makes you smile that way,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Well, you don’t have to be. That’s why I keep sketching these things. I can’t find what I’m looking for. I’m trying to capture the feeling of a moment I had.”

He looked back at the drawings and shook his head. “I still don’t understand you.” His eyes flickered back over to my towel clade form and trailed along my body a second time as I grabbed my clothes and went back to the bathroom. I hoped that I wasn’t giving him too much of an eyeful with my short towel...

I heard him muttering something that sounded like profanity or prayer as I walked away, and a wee-bit of amusement floated through me. Maybe my towel was a little too short in the back.

“You’re killing me,” he called out with a put upon groan.

“I thought you were already dead?” I shouted back, and I heard him laugh.

Throwing on my clothes quickly, I came out dressed, and I put the folder of drawings in my large teacher bag. Taking a second, I looked around - I was finally leaving and going to my house. I wanted to giggle at that last thought and resisted the urge to grin.

Eric’s voice nudged me out of my happy thoughts as he questioned, “Shall we?” Nodding an affirmative at him, Eric grabbed his satchel and gestured me out. As we exited the building, I left the keys in a little envelope and slid it under the building manager’s office door as he asked me to.

“You’re excited,” Eric stated, feeling my emotions through his blood in my system. “To be leaving?”

“For my next adventure,” I replied and smiled up at him. Everything in Bon Temps had been an adventure so far.

We walked back to the alley behind my apartment, an easy atmosphere between us. Suddenly he pulled me to him roughly, arms wrapping around me tightly. “You teased me with the towel tonight,” he rasped, his voice somewhere between a whisper and growl.

I gasped as my hands latched onto his shirt, unsure as to what else to do. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t planned on it,” I murmured.

“Mm…” He eyed me up and down like he wanted to devour me. “Your body is delectable.”

“Umm...thank you,” I said through the massive awkward lump arousal in my throat. Shooting me that confident Eric smirk of his, we slowly lifted into the air as he took off in flight.

“You’re welcome,” he rumbled back to me, and it went right to my core. I gripped him harder as he chuckled.

“Now who’s teasing who?” I asked. He didn’t say anything in response, but he did give me an all too charming smile. We flew in silence for a while. I started to relax and just enjoy the sensation of being held, and eventually yawned in his arms.

“You’re tired,” he commented. I wasn’t sure if he could tell through his blood in me or just from the fact that I couldn’t suppress a second yawn.

“Yeah, I did a lot of work to get my apartment all done in one night.”

“You could rest in my arms,” he offered.

“I might try it. I’m kind of getting used to this flight thing. You never seem like you even get remotely tired of holding me,” I said, and I closed my eyes.

“I hope I never will,” he replied, almost too softly for me to hear.

I snapped my eyes open to look at him to see if he meant what I thought he meant, but he wasn’t looking at me. Staring at him for a moment, I decided that I misunderstood that he couldn’t possibly have meant it in a loving, caring sort of way, rather than the literal way I had suggested. I closed my eyes again and tucked my head against Eric’s chest, and tried to nap.

I must have managed to drift as the next thing I was aware of was Eric calling my name. “Jane,” I heard Eric’s voice say, and I opened my eyes. We were at my house in Bon Temps, and Eric was staring expectantly down at me.

“Oh,” I said and shook my head a little to chase the sleepiness away as Eric was setting me down on my feet.

“I need to go. Dawn approaches,” he explained.

“Okay. Well, you know where to find me.”

“That I do.” He gave me another knee-weakening smile, and then he took to the sky.

****

Eric’s POV - Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009

I was getting more involved with her than I wanted. Logically I realized that, but something about her drew me to her... I was going to try to take a step back—a little distance. I sighed and grabbed my phone, and texted Bill. I asked him to meet with me to arrange for his telepathic human to come and investigate my employees. Waiting a moment, I frowned when he didn’t get back to me quickly. Scoffing I pocketed my phone - I imagined he was still displeased about his displacement from his home. When I returned to the nest, Pam informed me that there had been no new information about the missing money. I went to my day rest with a plan to sit on the throne the following night and see if I could sense any extra fear or unusual behavior from any of my associates, vampires, or humans.

Instead, I woke to find myself sticky with the evidence of a wet dream. Jane. It was the only explanation. She was causing me to orgasm during my day rest. Growling in frustration at the thought, I went and cleaned up in the shower, trying not to think about what she could have been doing to cause my day time orgasm. I fought thinking about the idea that she was touching herself, thinking of me. I tried to resist thinking of the fleshy round curve of her ass that I saw at the edge of her short towel. Or that brief glimpse of pink that I saw when I pressed my thumb to her and made her come—the heady scent of her wild arousal.

It was a battle that I was losing.

Dressed in black, I went to Fangtasia to open and start the usual parade of attention-seeking humans. Longshadow and I amused ourselves by allowing a tourist to take my photo, and then he proceeded to smash her phone. She didn’t want a picture - breathers just wanted a story, a memory. We certainly gave her that. Later in the evening, Pam pointed out AB negative Jason Stackhouse, the telepathic Sookie’s brother. According to Pam, Stackhouse had come to the bar to procure vampire blood and already had some in his system, so he was likely looking for his next fix. The vampire blood in his system didn’t have the scent of anyone she knew, but then she wasn’t always here when I had to greet newcomers to the region.

“Dumb and delicious,” I told Pam and she chuckled. Very few men caught my attention these days, but this Jason Stackhouse seemed...interesting.

He didn’t seem to be successful in his quest to attain more vampire blood, but he left with a woman. She had the blood of several vampires in her, a clear mark of a V addict. If they were not caught with it in their possession or taking it, I could do nothing. I did not know the scents of the vampires she smelled like, and there was no way to prove that they hadn’t all willingly given her the blood—disgusting little leech.

I got a flash of fear from my blood in Jane. She couldn’t stay out of trouble, could she? I called her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Malcolm, Diane, and Liam are here,” she whispered.

“Where?”

“At Merlotte’s Bar and Grill.” Her voice trembled slightly, and I could tell she was trying to not panic. The Shifter’s bar, at least they weren’t causing problems here.

“Did they threaten you?” I would love the opportunity to put that nest in their place.

“Not really. They’re more interested in Sookie. It’s getting ugly,” she explained. “Should I leave?”

“Just stay put.” No need to act like prey. “Stay on the line with me.”

“Okay. I was just getting dinner. Apparently, Sookie is having sex with Bill and announced it to the whole bar,” she whispered.

“Sounds classy,” I said dryly.

“Bill’s here!” she suddenly exclaimed. “They want Bill to go with them. I guess they used to be friends.”

“That should tell you all you need to know about what kind of vampire your ancestor is.”

“Yeah,” she sighed in agreement. “He’s going with them, but I think it’s to protect Sookie. They’re gone now.”

I felt her relief flood the blood.

“Call if they come back,” I ordered her.

“Okay. Thank you for checking on me,” she replied. “My food is here, and it looks yummy,” she added.

“I will let you feed then.”

She giggled adorably, and I realized that I didn’t want to hang up. She was worming her way into me.

“Goodnight,” she said.

“Goodnight, Jane.”

She hung up, and I felt bereft, and the silence was deafening.

Fuck.

I couldn’t think. I had planned to find out more about the missing money, but now all I could think about was Jane and how I wanted her. I wanted her blood. I wanted her body...Did I want more? I scoffed internally. I wasn’t about to be her boyfriend and play human with her. I looked out into the bar crowd, and I saw a young blonde eyeing me flirtatiously. She looked a little like Jane. Taller, more makeup, dressed less conservatively. I gestured to her, and she came to me, shaking like a leaf.

“What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Ashley. Ashley Martin,” she said breathlessly.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“I just wanted to check it out. I like vampires,” she said, her tone flirtatious and posturing shifting to one I assumed she thought I found appealing and seductive.

“Hmm...why’s that?”

“They’re real sexy,” she said. “Like you.”

I resisted the urge to scoff and roll my eyes like I knew my childe would. This was no challenge at all, and frankly I was bored. She was about as interesting and deep as a puddle. At this point though, I didn’t care. I just had to get Jane out of my head.

“Were you hoping to have sex with a vampire, let them bite you?” I asked her.

She looked at me, surprised but elated. “Well, yeah. I mean. I read about it in Cosmo, and I knew I just had to try it.”

So fucking easy.

“Would you like to come with me?” I asked her.

She nodded, and I led her by the hand to the dungeon. I had her backed against the wall in no time, as she moaned in an irritating and contrived way in response. I put my hand over her mouth to stop her before I glamoured her to be quiet out of pure annoyance. I licked her neck, and I scraped my teeth against her causing her to moan in the most cliche pornstar manner.

Growing impatient, I asked, “Are you ready?”, letting go of her mouth long enough for her to respond.

“Oh hells yeah,” she replied, and I tried to find her enthusiasm less annoying. I bit her, and she winced. She didn’t look like she particularly enjoyed it, but I didn’t particularly care. Her blood was not terrible, but it wasn’t good. She wasn’t a smoker or a heavy drinker, but it just tasted kind of fatty? She wasn’t a large person, so it didn’t make sense. I stopped drinking from her, and she undid my belt buckle.

I wasn’t particularly hard, but as she moved her hands over me, I began to enjoy the sensation and let my mind focus on it. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I reached down to pull her panties to the side and thrusted into her in a single motion. I fucked her hard against the wall as she wailed like a banshee, her voice reaching a pitch that felt like my ears were being assaulted. Growing tired of the entire encounter, I decided to make her come quickly and send her on her way. I moved my thumb over her clit at vampire speed, and I felt her body clench and contract around me. It wasn’t enough to make me feel anywhere near close to climaxing myself, and I only felt more frustrated. She unwrapped her legs from around my waist, and I tucked myself away and let her rest for a moment before I kicked her out.

I wasn't a total dick.

“Wow! That was great,” she sighed. “Do you want my number?”

“I appreciate the offer, but that will not be necessary.”

She nodded as if expecting this response, and I found it pitiful.

“What kind of diet do you have?” I asked her curiously. I wondered if it would explain the taste of her blood.

“Oh, I’m on Atkins.” She smiled brightly.

“Atkins?” Another fad diet?

“Yeah, I eat a lot of avocados, salmon, bacon, coconut oil…” she explained.

I shook my head. “I can taste the fat in your blood,” I told her. She blanched.

“Oh. Well, thanks for telling me, I guess,” she said and climbed the stairs, awkwardly leaving.

I went back up to the throne and thought about my interaction with the woman. Had Jane ruined me? In just a few short days, I went from being able to feed from and fuck any woman I wanted, and now I just wanted Jane’s fresh, clean blood and her sweet curvy little body. I felt insane.

“Eric. Eric. Eric!” Realizing Pam had been saying my name over and over, I glared up at her.

“What?” I snapped at her.

“We closed twenty minutes ago. I was asking if you wanted to ride with me back to the nest? I brought the Audi.”

“I’ll fly,” I told her. I was surprised. I had been lost in thought for a while there.

“Fine,” Pam snapped and stormed off.

I stared at her blankly as she left. If I wasn’t careful, Pam would figure out that something was up with me, and I didn’t want to get into it with her about Jane and any potential feelings I may or may not have for her. I texted Bill again to see if he would respond, and then I flew back to the nest.

Pam had already gone to ground when I arrived, and I was feeling Jane through the blood. She was...aroused and hesitant. I went down to my bedroom, and I finally received a call from her.

“Hi...” she said awkwardly. Gods, I could almost feel the heat of her blush through the blood.

“Yes, Jane?” I asked, knowing what she was probably going to ask me.

“I was just wondering...that is to say...are you done with all of your meetings and business for the night?” she asked in the most roundabout way, obviously trying to be nonchalant about her line of questioning.

“I am. I’m actually in bed,” I told her. “Where are you?”

“I don’t have a bed yet, so I’m on the sofa. I was just...I wanted to see…” I felt her frustration rise.

“You wanted to tell me that you were going to bring yourself to orgasm?” I finished for her.

She was silent for a moment before she hesitantly whispered, “Yeah.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Okay. Umm….goodnight.” When did I start to think that her awkward behavior was adorable?

“Sweet dreams Jane,” I said to her smoothly, and I could tell through the blood that she caught the double meaning of my words. That I hoped my blood in her would bring her dreams of me.

She hung up. I felt her relax, and then I felt her arousal build, and I couldn’t help but stroke myself and think of her. Lying on her couch. Would she lay on her stomach or her back? Was she pumping her fingers inside of herself or grinding on her clit? Gods, I longed to know how to please her what she liked….Her arousal was rising faster and faster, and I thought about the curve of her ass and that small glimpse of her pink slit. I thought of all the things I wished to do with her, to her. Then I felt her coming, and I was coming with her. I felt her relaxation and her contentment through the blood.

I looked at the pink release of dead seed and blood that I had spilled over my hand, stunned for a moment - that was so much more satisfying than fucking and drinking from the woman in the dungeon. I knew right then I was already in way too deep, and well and truly fucked.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the folks that have left Kudos and reviews, they absolutely brighten my day and I’m always happy to answer questions and interact with you. 
> 
> It wasn’t Godric POV (yet) but how did you feel about getting a taste of him in this chapter?
> 
> Also, the poem is not mine. It is widely attributed to Mary Elizabeth Frye, and was published in 1932.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I just want to give a heads up that there is the mention of past rape in this chapter. The warning for this has been in the tags from the very beginning of this story, but I just want to give everyone a reminder in case they forgot.
> 
> Also, as always, many thanks to my beta reader and editor FumiyoSenka. This story would be unintelligible garbage without her!

Chap 8

Jane’s POV - _Wednesday, June 24th & Thursday, June 25th, 2009_

I woke late in the afternoon, feeling rested and pleased. My house was coming together quite nicely. The electrician got the lights and all the outlets working, and the plumbing was functional. There was an amazing bathtub upstairs, and I had big plans for a bubble bath later in the evening. My boxes had arrived, and I had unpacked the most pertinent ones and would work on unpacking my other boxes today.

After looking at my funds, I decided that I needed to get a summer job; fixing up the house was just too expensive. After chatting with the locals at Merlotte’s last night, I found out that the Bon Temps school district probably couldn’t afford to budget any money towards any arts and crafts classes and put all extracurricular money into football. That was a little disappointing, as I liked working with little kids. They weren’t burdened by the expectations of society as much. I decided I would check out Shreveport schools and community centers when I got a chance and see what they had.

My thoughts turned back to the drama from the previous night. Malcolm, Diane, and Liam scared the crap out of everyone, and I had spent the better part of the night with Arlene, trying to talk Terry down from his manic disappointment that he hadn’t been able to do more to stop the savage behavior of the trio vampires. The whole bar was extremely tense, even after Bill had left with them. A table of rednecks were all riled up, and I had seen that type of mob mentality before; it wasn’t pretty.

I meditated on the idea that it was simply nature and that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. For every Malcolm, Diane, and Liam, there was a table full of hillbillies filled with rage and fueled by prejudice. I didn’t know if it was true, but I liked the idea that nature eventually brought balance to all things.

My afternoon was spent puttering around my house, making various lists of things I needed and what I wanted. I liked to make lists, and I found them calming. Plans helped me organize my thoughts on all the things I needed to purchase and would need to do to get my marvelous house liveable.

It was early evening when Sookie came over quite distraught, wondering if Bill had returned and spent his day rest here.

“Those rednecks burnt down the nest of those vampires that were at the bar last night, and there were four coffins,” she told me. Sookie nervously chewed on her bottom lip as she paced in front of me, eventually questioning, “What if one of them was Bill?” She seemed like she might cry if she didn’t find Bill soon.

“Well...I mean, I guess you won’t really know until tonight, so try not to worry until then,” I offered, but I wasn’t hopeful. I felt for her. How horrible it would be to have to wait, not knowing if he was dead or not.

But if it were true, then I wouldn’t have to worry about my ancestor anymore. I found myself strangely disappointed. If I didn’t have to worry about Bill, I didn’t need to be Eric’s anymore. I was surprised by how much I didn’t like that.

After Sookie left, I ate a fruit salad for lunch, unpacked more of my things, and generally got things done. When it was dark, I called Eric.

“You feel odd tonight,” he said when he answered.

“It seems that Malcolm, Diane, and Liam were killed. Their nest was found and burned to the ground by some rednecks, according to Sookie. Supposedly there were four coffins found, and Sookie thinks that it’s possible that Bill was in the fourth.”

“I see,” he replied after a moment. “Did she say anything about feeling a blood bond break?”

“No. She didn’t know for sure if it was him in there or not.”

“Then they didn’t have a blood bond. That surprises me,” he said thoughtfully.

“Did you want to feed from me tonight?” I asked, looking out at turbulence in the sky. It seemed like it would crack open and pour buckets at any moment.

“I do,” he replied quickly. “But I will come to you.”

Staring at the growing dark clouds, I frowned a bit before replying, “Are you sure? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

“I’ll drive,” he stated, and I heard the jingle of keys. “I’m leaving now.”

“Okay. See you soon.” We hung up, and I went up to my bedroom upstairs to continue unpacking while I waited for Eric to arrive. I loved the master bedroom, and my first big purchase was going to be a luxurious bed. Glancing at the time, I decided I would take a quick bath while I had the chance and quickly filled my huge tub up. I put a few drops of my rose essential oils in it and took a moment just to lean back and relax. Once I felt more centered, I grabbed a cloth and washed off with a drop of green soap. I then soaked for a bit more, just enjoying the sensation of the water. I knew that Eric would be here soon, so I got out of the tub, dried off, and put on my satin robe. I thought I would have time to change into pajamas, at least, but Eric was a speedy driver.

“Jane,” I heard him call from downstairs. Hurrying towards the step, I went and looked down at him over the edge of the railing. He was so handsome. His broad shoulders and long hair were damp from the rain - he reminded me of a gothic romantic hero, and I had a feeling that he wouldn’t like being described in such a manner.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly as I carefully inched my way down the stairs.

“Hello...” he drawled, eyeing me up and down in my robe.

“I thought I had more time. You drive fast.”

“I do,” he replied, still staring at me.

Tucking my hair behind my ear nervously, I motioned towards the living room and made my way into it as he followed close behind me. “I wish I knew how to build a fire. It’s the perfect weather for it,” I told him, gesturing to my brick fireplace.

He noticed the wood and paper and long matches nearby and quickly arranged them and had a small fire going in no time.

I walked over to the fireplace to warm my hands some before shooting him an amused smile. “That’s a good skill to have,” I said as I sat next to where he was kneeling in front of the fireplace.

“It used to be a necessity,” he told me. “Now, it’s merely a luxury.”

I nodded. “It’s funny how the opposite of that is also true. How some things we now see as necessities used to be luxuries. It’s hard for me to imagine that there was a time when people couldn’t just drive to the store and purchase whatever they would need.”

“Yes, the times are very different now. Even within the last few years, since the Great Revelation. Bottled blood changed everything...” He trailed off at the end of his sentence, and it was then I noticed he was staring at me. Following the direction of his gaze, I looked down and noticed that my robe had loosened and was gaping open slightly, the swell of my cleavage now visible. I quickly reached up to move to cover it.

“Please don’t,” he asked, his voice a raw whisper, and he reached over to still my hand. We sat in silence. I felt the pounding on my heart, and I saw him watching the curve of my neck. His eyes slid even lower, and the sexual tension between us was thicker than ever. I shifted away, unsure how and why I felt so mixed up.

“Your first time...you know why it hurt?” he asked, finally letting go of my hand and looking away from me and into the flames of the fire.

I knew that there were two reasons why it hurt. I had been prepared for the first reason going in, as the usual pain that came with one’s first time having sex was something that talked about in hushed whispers and giggling conversations between friends in college. The other reason I learned was...wrong. I hadn’t known for the longest time either. That his roughness was excessive and especially troubling considering how I had just turned eighteen and had almost no experience up until then, that the way he hurt me wasn’t okay, and I had been so young and naive that I had still called him after. That I still wanted him even though he hurt me so badly.

“Eric, I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said instead, looking away from him and absentmindedly playing with the edge of my robe.

“The first time doesn’t have to hurt, but often it does because men are fools,” he said, his tone firm and tinged with disdain.

“I know that,” I told him, and then I decided that I couldn’t hide it from him any longer. “But it was more than just it being my first time.”

Eric’s body tensed, and he looked at me sharply.

“What did he do?” he demanded, his gaze laser-focused on my face.

I looked away. I was ashamed of this. I had let it happen. “He was very rough with me. I think he liked that he hurt me.”

Eric's face was terrifying. He looked lethal.

“He raped you,” he said slowly.

“No, I consented,” I told him.

“Did you know that you were consenting to be hurt? That he was going to hurt you? You agreed to that?” he fired off the questions rapidly.

“No! I didn’t know anything about anything. I thought it was normal, and I thought that he loved me.” I told him pathetically. I was so stupid.

“If you didn’t know what you agreed to, then it wasn’t consensual, Jane,” he said softly, his eyes softening around the edges but overall expression still promising violence to those who had hurt me in the past.

I shook my head. I didn’t want that to be true. I didn’t want my first time to be labeled with something so horrible.

“I wanted to have sex with him. I agreed. I never told him to stop.” I looked Eric in the eye. “I let him hurt me. I trusted him. I thought it was normal.”

Eric looked at me like he had finally determined something. I didn’t know what he had figured out, but the look of clarity in his eye was startling.

“Do you trust me, Jane?” he asked, his frozen ocean eyes pinning me in place.

I swallowed, taking a moment to think over my answer before responding.

“Yes,” I told him. “I wouldn’t let you in my house if I didn’t.”

“Are you afraid that I’m going to hurt you? Even though you trust me?” he asked then, and I gasped softly.

Oh, God! I was - I was terrified of it. I felt tears well in my eyes as he pulled me to his chest and let me cry on him. It was cathartic for me, and it was then that I realized I had a problem - I was haunted by that night, by my own stupidity. I was still holding on to that fear and that god awful pain--like I was being torn in two. That I still didn’t understand how I had become so mixed up about what had happened. Eric continued to hold me while I cried.

“I will never hurt you. You are safe,” he repeated to me. “You are safe, Jane. I will never let anyone hurt you.”

I cried harder. He stroked my hair, and I felt myself calm.

“I want to believe you,” I sniffled.

He nodded. “Take all the time you need,” he replied. “I will endeavor to be more patient.”

I laughed at his statement and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. Eric did not strike me as a patient person.

“Ugh. I’m sorry I cried all over your shirt.”

“Shall I take it off then?” he asked, joking flirtatiously, breaking the tension. He was effortlessly charming.

“You better stay clothed. This robe is so slippery I’m surprised I have flashed you yet.” I adjusted the front tighter.

“Mmm...I like this robe,” he murmured quietly and eyed the edge that had slipped before. I laughed. Eric made everything simple and easy.

We sat in comfortable silence, and Eric added more wood to the fire.

“If Bill is dead, then the terms of our association can change,” he stated firmly.

I felt my stomach drop.

“I would still protect you and help you with any problems you may have if you would continue to agree to be mine,” he offered.

I looked into the fire. I got a warm glowy feeling. I felt like I had just been asked to go steady with him, and I nearly laughed at the idea.

“I’d like that,” I said with a grin, happy I was finally able to tell him.

He smiled at me then, that charming grin that made me feel weak in the knees. “I’d like for us to meet more than two or three times a week. I would like us to meet whenever we’re both available to do so.” I looked into his eyes, glancing back and forth between them while trying to get a read on his intentions. He was sincere. “I would rather take smaller amounts of your blood closer to nightly, rather than two or three larger amounts. It will be more gentle on your smaller body,” he explained, but I felt like it was just an excuse.

“It’s easier for me in the summer, but I’m going to be applying to some jobs, probably in Shreveport. I’m going to need to spend a lot to get this place fixed up.”

He nodded and looked around skeptically. I could see he still didn’t get why I liked this house.

“We will work out what works best for us. Depending on our schedules,” he added.

“Would you like to feed from me tonight?” I asked.

The look he gave me I could only describe as predatory.

“Very much.”

Just then, I realized I was bare under my robe. If he fed from my thigh...it would be incredibly intimate.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand coming to cup my face.

“I’m bare under my robe.” I felt myself flush, cheeks feeling on fire as I ducked my head down anxiously.

“You don’t want me to see you,” he stated, voice slow and deeper than before. “I would very much like to see you,” he rumbled at me, his thumb idly rubbing against my cheek. Taking a few minutes to think, I rolled the idea of him seeing me around in my head. This was about trust. I needed to try, if I was ever going to shake the fear of what had happened.

Taking a deep breath, I murmured a soft, “Okay, but don’t touch.” I saw him swallow and nod. I trusted him, at least more than I trusted the last person I let get close.

I slowly laid down backwards on the rug in front of the fireplace and slid my robe off my legs. I could already feel the effect he had on me just being near me, the room feeling warmer - and not because of the fire.

He just stared at me for a few seconds, shifting to be closer to me. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, not touching me but leaning over me and sniffing my skin. “Bend your leg, please, love,” he said, and I did. “Can I touch you here, to hold back your leg?” he asked, indicating my thigh, and I immediately felt respected and somehow even more aroused.

“Yes,” I agreed, and his large hand moved my knee out. I felt myself already dripping, and my blush grow more pronounced.

Eric seemed almost to curse out strange words in an old-sounding language that I couldn’t understand, and I wasn’t sure what he meant.

“You are exquisite,” he groaned. “And your scent truly is mouthwatering.”

He moved his head and licked my thigh, and I moaned at the feeling.

“So beautiful,” Eric murmured into my skin, and I could feel his fangs were out. I felt a burst of wild enjoyment from his reactions to me and resisted the urge to arch towards him. I wanted him to bite me, to penetrate me with his fangs... He continued to tease me with them, and I realized it was because he could feel how much I liked it through the blood. Eric felt what I felt. Finally, when I hardly thought I could stand it anymore, he punctured my thigh. He had to hold my leg down because my hips started rolling on their own.

Lifting his head and retracting his fangs from me, “You’re so close, love,” he rumbled at me, and I knew it. He lowered his head to continue gently sipping at the bite and pulled a little blood from me but less than usual. I found myself wanting more, aching for more. Feeling tears of frustration growing in the corners of my eyes, I felt like crying. I was distantly surprised at the needy little whispers escaping me as I grabbed fistfuls of the rug under me. “What do you need?” Eric begged me.

I shook my head. I didn’t know. I wanted to touch myself, but I was too embarrassed, and I didn’t want him to touch me, as I was too scared, and it was all so much. The pleasure and the need. The embarrassment and the want.

“Please, with your fangs.” I was able to decide, and he bit me again, the sharpness was wonderful, and I couldn’t help but rub my clit right next to his face, and I was coming. Finally, teetering over the edge into oblivion and the sound he made when I came was a strangled moan. I saw that he was watching me move my hand in small circles with his pupils blown wide with fascination and lust.

Again I felt like I was one with the universe, floating amongst the stars. I was swimming with them, my body light as a feather.

I eventually opened my eyes and noticed as Eric gave me a relieved look. “You blacked out for a moment,” he said, brow furrowing slightly in concern.

“Oh,” I said, and I quickly removed my hand from between my legs to tuck it against me.

“You touch yourself so lightly,” he said with a mixture of joy and wonder. “I loved watching it.” Looking up at the ceiling, I tried not to be embarrassed, though I was sure my cheeks were probably permanently red by now. “I haven’t come in my pants so much since I was 12 years old,” he laughed lightly, standing and not at all ashamed by the dark splotches on his trousers. Nodding his head towards the bathroom, he grinned, “I’m going to clean up, and I’ll be right back.”

I nodded and covered myself with my robe as he sauntered off to clean up, seeming quite pleased. Shaking my head at his antics, I laid there on the rug, thinking. Things were progressing. He watched me touch myself, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Had I crossed a line? Maybe I had already crossed it when I found out how aroused I became from being bitten.

My mind wandered back to my night on the bench when my silver-eyed vampire made me come from a bite and his hand on my breast. I wondered what he would think of all this. Of me, touching myself while being bitten. I think he would like it. He had a sensual hedonism about him, his dark eyes, and the curve of his lips. Then I felt guilty for thinking about him after Eric had been so wonderful. What was wrong with me?

Eric came back from cleaning up and pulled me to him. He dropped a kiss on the top of my head and held me. It felt nice and caring, and I couldn’t resist returning the hold some.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about experiencing pleasure,” he told me, only knowing my feelings and incorrectly guessing the reason.

“I know,” I told him.

He looked at me with a strange intensity. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he said, and I laughed.

“I think I figured that out.”

“I find that I do want us to be exclusive with each other. I find myself only wanting you, and everything and everyone else pales in comparison,” he said this as if it was hard to get out. It was like he was admitting a great weakness.

I thought about what he was offering me, and it scared me. I didn’t want him to offer this and for me to find out that he was biting and having sex with other women. I trusted him to let him into my home, and I trusted him to bite me nicely and not hurt me. Did I trust him emotionally?

“I’m not sure,” I told him.

“Ah,” he replied very seriously. “There’s someone else. The man, the chef perhaps?” he asked, no emotions on his face, but I still knew that he was angry, teetering on furious.

“No! You weirdo! I guess I’m just not sure I can handle it if I find out that you’re not exclusive. I’m already attached to you,” I explained, and he calmed.

Releasing me to lean down towards the fireplace, he thought about what I said as he adjusted the logs on the fire.

“What would bother you more if you found I was fucking someone else or feeding from someone else?” he asked me, rather crudely.

“Sex,” I replied instinctively.

“Why?”

I knew the answer. “Because if you were feeding from someone else, it would just be because you needed the blood and since I’m already giving you blood if that wasn’t enough...I guess I would understand. I don’t know how much blood you need, but I could imagine that there could be a reason you need extra or some sort of vampire cultural custom. But I’m not ready to have sex with you yet, and if you were having sex with others, it would be my fault,” I ended, and I felt like I might cry again.

He stood back up and pulled me to him again, rubbing my back and shoulders.

“How about sexual exclusivity? You’re right. There are times when I may be required to feed, and I don’t want that to feel like a betrayal to you.”

“Why do you want this so badly?” I asked him. “Why can’t things just stay the way they are?”

He looked away, and I could tell I offended him.

“I will be exclusive to you,” I told him. “And you’re under no obligation to do the same.”

“Why don’t you want me to be exclusive to you?” he asked, and I heard the anger edge his voice.

“Because I’m already scared of my feelings for you, and I don’t know what they mean or how I can even process the idea that you’re somehow interested in me beyond my body and my blood,” I told him honestly. “I just don’t get it. I don’t understand why you would want to limit your options down to just… me.”

He shook his head. “You see everything in others, but you can’t see yourself. Gods, you remind me of someone I know. I can see I have more work to do before you agree to this,” he ended with a frustrated sigh and kneeled in front of me.

“May I kiss you?” he suddenly asked, shocking me. My eyes wide, I’m sure I had a dear in the headlights expression on my face.

“I didn’t think you would want to kiss me,” I said, and he laughed.

“Why not?”

“I guess it just seems a very human thing to do,” I replied and shrugged.

“It is. I would never kiss you in front of vampires. They would see it as weak, kissing a human. Having emotions is also considered weak,” he responded. “But that’s all bullshit.”

“Eric!”

“I would like to kiss you,” he added, “And I wouldn’t see it as a weakness.”

I thought about it, really thought about it. This could be good for me. Maybe I had built my whole Eric sexual fantasy in my head. Maybe his kiss would prove me wrong.

“Okay,” I agreed with a nod. Eric leaned closer, his face directly in front of mine, and I couldn’t help but stare at him - his beauty was overwhelming. As he got closer, I slowly closed my eyes for the kiss, and I felt his lips meet mine. My body ignited with so much arousal that Eric’s arms instinctively pulled me in closer, and suddenly he was kissing me harder. My mouth opened to him and his hands were in my hair, and it was as if he was devouring me whole. Eric’s passion was consuming. If I hoped that Eric’s kiss would put an end to my desire for him --I was very, very, very wrong.

When we broke the kiss, I took a deep breath, and I looked at him. He was gazing at me like I was a miracle and meal all rolled into one.

“That was...I need to go now,” he said, instantly standing using his vampire speed.

I thought that was a good idea.

“Thank you,” I told him softly. I hadn’t known that it would be like that. I felt like he had given me a gift, one that I didn’t know how to repay.

He shook his head as if exasperated by me. “Please don’t thank me,” he replied, and he kissed my forehead.

“Goodnight, Eric.”

“Goodnight, love,” he said, and he walked out into the night.

I sat down in front of the fire, and I got a text from Eric right away.

**Bill’s alive. He’s fucking Sookie in the muddy graveyard.**

I responded.

**Gross. Also, don’t text and drive.**

I sat in front of the fireplace and watched the fire burn down. I loved the beauty of it, and I tried to find the exact moment when I thought that the fire was out; it was a fine line. I felt like I was trying to catch something happening that you can’t really see. When is the fire out? How do people fall for each other?

Slowly...and then all at once.

I fell asleep in front of the fireplace, and I dreamed of Eric and my silver-eyed vampire.

_“He’s loyal,” Silver-eyes said. “Handsome, protective, smart..what’s not to like?”_

_“I do like him,” I said. I turned to Eric. “I do like you.”_

_“Of course, love. But something is holding you back.” He trailed his hands over my shoulders._

_“Is it me?” My mystery vampire asked. “Am I holding you back? Or is it your fear?”_

I woke up cold on the floor, and the fire was completely out now. I tried to hold on to the message of my dream, but I couldn’t. It slipped through my fingers in the way the dreams do and just left me with a disconcerting feeling.

Getting up, I got ready for the day, the dream on the edges of my thoughts. My day was spent in my usual pursuits. I went to the bar, and Terry made me a salad, and he came out and chatted with me about possums for a bit and told me about his pet armadillo, Felix.

“I’ve never seen Terry talk to anyone so much. He must like you,” Arlene, the bottle redheaded waitress, told me teasingly. I thought it was apparent that Terry saw me as a friend and thought Arlene hung the moon.

“Terry’s very nice, but I think he has his eye on someone else,” I said.

“Well, that’s alright, honey. Plenty of fish in the sea. I’d know I’ve been married four times,” she jokingly said to me, and I forced myself to laugh politely at her comment.

Sookie then came into the restaurant and snarked at me about Bill having to stay at her place since I had ‘so rudely’ taken his house.

“Sookie, imagine if some old ancestor of yours popped up and wanted your house,” I tried to reason with her.

“You didn’t even know that house was yours. Bill has spent more time in it than you. He helped build the damn thing, and then you waltz in here like it’s yours,” she stated sassily.

“It is mine. My Great Uncle left it to me,” I told her. Making my voice as firm as I could, I stared her down and stated, “His closest living relative.”

Sookie eventually stormed away after a couple more angry verbal jabs, and I could see I was on her bad list now. Everyone else seemed to understand but not her.

“She’ll come around, and that vampire will get his own place. I hope,” Arlene said as she dropped off my check. “Are you good with kids?” she asked me out of nowhere.

“Yeah. I’m a teacher. I taught art at an elementary school,” I told her.

“Oh, wow! Really? My babysitter fell through, and I really need someone to watch my kids tonight. Coby and Lisa, they’re real sweet, well behaved, and I would pay you,” she begged.

“Sure,” I agreed. “How old are they? Do they like art? Painting?” I asked, thinking of how I would entertain them.

“Coby is seven, and Lisa is nine. Oh, and they love arts and crafts. They can be messy, though,” she warned me.

“That’s not a problem. What time?” I asked, paying for my food and leaving a tip.

“8:00 pm, okay?” she eagerly asked.

“That’s great,” I told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a real lifesaver.”

I waved her off, and I went home. Puttering around the house, I made sure everything was all set up for the kids to come over. I texted Eric and explained to him that I was babysitting, and he couldn't come over. It was a little past five when I got a text back from him.

**Why? I’m great with kids.**

I rolled my eyes and replied.

 **I’m sure you are, but Arlene agreed to let me watch them, not you and me**.

He replied immediately.

**I need to have a chat with Bill tonight anyway. Let me know when the tiny humans are gone.**

Tiny humans. He was so silly.

**He’s staying with Sookie if that helps. I will let you know when they’re gone.**

I got out some watercolors, the simple Crayola kind, not my nice ones. And then I dug and found some white crayons so they could do some resistance art. I wondered what I would feed them. I could probably order them a pizza. Kids were easy like that. I didn’t have much else they could do, so I hoped that I wouldn’t have to babysit for too long. I didn’t even have a TV. I supposed that I could tell them some stories? I had done that before when the power went out in my classroom and we didn’t have enough light to do any art.

I tidied up as best I could, but the house just needed more work to be ready for guests. At 8:00 pm, Arlene and her Cajun boyfriend Rene, and the two kids, arrived. I was still wary of Rene because he had always given me such a bizarre, contradictory vibe. Coby thankfully had a GameBoy with him, so I wasn’t as worried about keeping him entertained. Little Lisa smiled at me and looked like a little mini-version of her Mom.

“Hi, my students always called me Miss Compton, or you can call me Miss Jane,” I told them, getting on their level.

“You’re a teacher? Are you gonna make me do math?” Coby asked.

“Oh, no! I’m an art teacher. Do either of you like to paint?” I asked, and they both nodded excitedly.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, now that Sookie’s got that vampire staying with her...I just feel safer knowin’ that they’re not with him,” Arlene said.

“Well, it will just be me here, and we’ll be fine,” I told her with a smile, and I saw Rene looking at my neck where my bite used to be.

“How did you get Vampire Bill to let you have dis house?” he said, looking around.

“It’s a bit complicated, but he can’t come in,” I reassured them of the children’s safety. “Have a great time, and here’s my number Arlene if you need to call for any reason.” I gave her my cell number, and she gave me hers in exchange.

“Thanks again, now you two listen to Miss Compton and be good,” she reminded the children in a firm tone as she and Rene left.

“So I don’t have a table yet, but we can just sit on the floor and paint. I was thinking later, if you get hungry, we can order a pizza?” I asked them, and they were enthusiastic and sweet.

I showed them the resistance art project, and they loved it. Coby drew a ton of zig-zag lines, and when he used the orange and red paint, it ended up looking like a fiery sunset, and he kept showing it to Lisa and was very proud. Lisa took her time and made intricate swirls and painted them delicately with greens, blues, and purples. She said that she was going to become a mermaid and that this was what her scales would look like. I had an enjoyable time painting with them.

Later I ordered them a pizza and had it delivered to the house, and they asked me a ton of questions while they ate.

“So why do you live in this creepy house, Miss Compton?” Coby asked, cheese stringing on his chin.

“My Great Uncle left me this house when he died, and I guess he was sick, so he didn’t take care of it. I’m going to work hard to make it nice again,” I explained to him.

“Miss Compton, isn’t this house too big to live in by yourself?” Lisa asked. “Why don’t you get a boyfriend, and he can ask you to marry him, and you can have kids, so your house isn’t so empty,” she suggested, and I laughed.

“I don’t know about that, Lisa. I think my students are all the kids I can handle,” I told her kindly.

Lisa nodded. “Well, why don’t you just have a boyfriend then, so you’re not all alone?”

I thought about that. Things were so simple for children, just have a boyfriend, so you’re not alone.

“I’ll think about that,” I told her with my teacher's smile. “Are you both done?” I asked. They nodded, both looking stuffed.

“Can I play my GameBoy?” Coby asked.

“Sure, wash your hands first, though,” I told him, and he went to the kitchen.

“What would you like to do, Lisa?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “Would you like me to tell you some stories?” I asked her, and she nodded eagerly.

I told her some old folktales, and Coby got distracted from his game and came and listened as well. They liked the stories and how the animals could talk and how the just thing always happened in the end. They started to nod off, and I told them soothing poems, and they both fell asleep on the couch.

I heard Arlene and Rene pull into the gravel drive, and I opened the door and explained that the kids fell asleep. Arlene showed me her engagement ring. Rene had proposed to her! I could tell she was over the moon ecstatic.

“Congratulations!” I whispered to her.

“I know I’ve done it four other times, but it never gets old!” she said outrageously.

“I’m so happy for you,” I told her, and it was true. Her joy was contagious.

“Let’s jus’ scoop them kids up and go,” Rene said, suggesting that they didn’t need to wake the children.

I showed them into the parlor, and the children looked precious and sweet, asleep on the couch. I got their artwork that had dried. Arlene was impressed by it.

“You really are a teacher, aren't you?” she said, looking at the pieces, and I tried not to laugh.

“I really am.”

Giving me a brief farewell nod, “Have a goodnight, cheré,” Rene said, as he carried Lisa in his arms.

“Thank you again,” Arlene called back to me, carrying a sleepy Coby out the door.

“No problem,” I told them, and I closed the door behind them.

I sat on the couch and thought about what Lisa had asked me about. Boyfriends, marriage, and children...

I just had never wanted that. I had never been one of those little girls that pictured their wedding, and while I loved working with my students, I couldn’t imagine having to come home to children. It would feel like I was still at work. I imagined my free time full of exploration and wonder, not crying babies and soggy diapers. I sometimes had the strange random daydream about having children, but I imagined that all women felt that way. It was probably just my biological clock ticking. I had given up on the idea of ever finding anyone that I would really want to be with anyway, a partner in life. I was content in my solitude. Lisa was worried about me being alone, but I wasn’t.

Remembering that I told Eric that I would text him when the children left, I got out my phone.

**I’m done babysitting now.**

As soon as I had pressed send the front door was opened, and Eric was strolling in.

“Were you just outside waiting?” I asked him, a little amused at his lack of patience.

“Yes,” he replied. “I saw them leave ten minutes ago.”

I shook my head. “Why were you just waiting around like a creeper?” I asked, and I gestured to him into the sitting room.

“I wanted to see you. I was already out here speaking with Bill. He is to present Sookie at Fangtasia tomorrow night to interview the human employees.” Then he hesitated slightly before continuing, “Pam and Longshadow believe that you should be interviewed as well.”

I paused. “They think that I could have stolen the money?”

“They think the timing is suspect,” he replied carefully. “I claim you, and then the money goes missing.”

I nodded slowly. I could understand that, I guess.

“Do you think that I stole the money?” I asked him, and he scoffed.

“No,” he replied. “I would like you to agree to this interview; otherwise, I fear that Pam and Longshadow will insist that you be glamoured.”

I gulped. “I’ll be interviewed,” I told him. “I really don’t want to be glamoured again, though, if it can be helped.”

Eric came over and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I will do everything in my power to avoid it.”

He walked away, and I could see him sniffing the house. “How was babysitting?” he asked.

“It was fine. They’re well-behaved kids. We did some art. I fed them some pizza. I told them some stories,” I explained.

He nodded. “I heard the stories. You’re very good with children,” he said, a strange tone in his voice.

“I can only handle so much time with them, but I like how they see the world. Simple. Straightforward.” I explained to him.

Wandering over to the fireplace, Eric made me a fire again. “You don’t wish for children of your own?” he asked lightly, and I felt like there was more to the question than just idle curiosity.

“No, not really. I understand how important it is, and I just never wanted that responsibility. Maybe I’m too selfish.”

“That’s what I used to say about being a Maker,” he told me. “Now I have Pam, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I nodded. That’s usually what parents said.

“I’ve never cared for the arbitrary milestones of people. I just want to live my life and experience joy and beauty and wonder,” I explained as I watched the flames of the fire.

He shook his head. “And you say you’re normal.”

“I am! Everyone wants a happy life,” I said indignantly.

“And marriage and children,” he replied. “You say you don’t want either.”

I shrugged. “There are plenty of people that don’t want marriage or children.”

“Yes, most women are not like you though.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about this,” I replied.

Shrugging, Eric let the line of conversation go and gracefully laid down in front of the fire. I swallowed at the sight of his long, lean body bathed in the glow of the firelight - the shadows that were cast on his pale skin, the strong line of his jaw, and the icy blueness of his eyes. I felt my need for him rise. I wanted him.

“I can feel you through the blood,” he said hoarsely. “How badly you want me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He gestured for me to join him, and I laid on my side next to him. He put his arm around me, and I felt comforted and still ridiculously aroused. I tried to suppress my need as I wiggled and squirmed next to him.

“Your want is tortuous. I want to help you with your need, but I don’t know how,” he whispered to me and stroked the side of my face. “Touch yourself,” he asked desperately. “Let me watch you.”

I hesitated, but I wanted release so badly - I needed to feel it. I lifted my dress, and Eric’s eyes went directly to my cotton panties. I slid them off my legs, and he groaned. His gaze was fixated on me, and I couldn’t see any of the icy ocean blue of his eyes anymore, only the black of his pupil.

“So beautiful,” he murmured to me, “Show me how you touch yourself.”

I exhaled deeply and brought a shaky hand between my legs. I was already ridiculously slick and wet, I could hear it, and I was flooded with embarrassment.

“No, don’t be embarrassed. You’re amazing. The scent, the sound of your arousal, drives me wild. I want to lick you and suck your petals into my mouth,” Eric half purred, and half growled at me.

“Eric…” I said needily. I imagined him doing just that. I moved my hand gently over my clit, knowing that too much pressure would make me come too quickly.

“You touch yourself so lightly, so delicately. You must be so sensitive,” he murmured in my ear, edging my arousal higher.

“It feels like so much,” I told him. I moved my fingers inside, gently curling them, and Eric groaned whether, at the sight of it or the feeling that it gave him through the blood, I didn’t know.

“Fuck,” Eric exclaimed, and I saw him watching my hand. “Gods. You’re so close. Are you going to come, love?” he asked me, tracing his nose up the line of my throat and inching me closer to my peak.

I nodded frantically. I wanted to come. I was right on edge. I just couldn’t quite get there. I felt like I would cry. I couldn’t. This was just...it wasn’t right. I wasn’t there mentally. I doubted myself, what I was doing, why I was doing it. I wished things were simple.

“Oh...sweetheart,” Eric said. “You can. What do you need? Ask me, and I will give it to you,” he said sweetly, feeling my pained pleasure, my inability to come, the mental block I felt.

“I don’t know,” I moaned. I felt the hot tears in the corners of my eyes.

“You do. Just tell me,” he whispered.

“Bite me,” I demanded.

He leaned down and sank his teeth into my thigh, and I came wildly, insanely, screaming as I dripped onto the side of Eric’s face. I could hear Eric’s savage growl, and I assumed that I caught him as well. He backed himself away from me as if he was worried about his self-control. His fangs were down, and his eyes were crazed, and his hands were clenching and releasing.

I still was floating down from my amazing climax, trying to catch my breath. I felt like I finally understood something about myself. I needed the bite. Something happened to me that night on the mountain with my silver-eyed vampire, and I was finding it again in Eric’s bite, that sharpness, that moment, my body was convoluting them.

I felt a crippling sense of self-loathing then. I was using Eric. My search for that feeling, I was getting it from him. I felt myself start to cry then. Eric’s arms came around me, and I felt even sadder. He was so good to me, so kind, and I knew that he had some sort of feeling for me. Did I just want the bite? Was I using him to try to find some sort of moment that I had let slip away?

“Shh…” Eric said as he stroked my hair. “Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him.

“Why?” he asked, so obviously confused yet concerned as to my reaction. “Because you need the bite?”

I nodded against his chest.

“You don’t need to be sorry for that,” he replied easily, not knowing why my body craved it so much. “I like that you want the bite. It’s very arousing.”

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” he replied matter of factly. “There’s nothing wrong with your desire to be bitten. I desire to bite you, so that works out quite well.”

I tried to smile. “Eric, I think I’m like this because of my first encounter with a vampire. That he made me this way.”

Eric froze for a moment. “Was he your first sexual experience after your first time?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“Were you thinking about him when you touched yourself?” he asked next, his voice dangerously calm.

“No. I was thinking about you,” I told him honestly.

He breathed out a huge sigh. “I think it makes perfect sense, love. Your first positive sexual experience included a bite, and now your body wants that again. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I nodded—that made sense. I felt a bit better. Maybe I wasn’t such a terrible person after all.

“You didn’t drink from me,” I said, just noticing that he only bit me, but he didn’t feed.

Swallowing slowly, Eric explained, “I didn’t trust myself. I was worried that I would go too far. I wanted to taste more than your blood.” 

Oh. I looked at him, and he licked the side of his face, and I could tell that he was tasting my release that I dripped on him. He closed his eyes and said something in that ancient-sounding language he used so often around me.

“What did you say?” I asked him.

“I thanked my gods for you. For the gift that is you,” he told me and smirked, looking quite pleased with himself. I didn’t know what to make of that.

“How do you feel now?” he asked me.

“I thought you knew how I felt through the blood?” I said.

“I don’t understand what you’re feeling. You’re relieved, you’re relaxed, but you’re also...scared? Why are you afraid?”

I shook my head, hesitantly glancing up at him, “I don’t know.”

Eric sighed against me. “I have to go soon,” he said. “May I kiss you before I go?”

I nodded.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I didn’t feel the overwhelming arousal like I had before. Instead, I felt a deep connection, a moment of pure togetherness. I was overcome with emotion for him. For this strange ancient man so insistent on trying to understand me and help me. I felt myself start to fall for him. It was simultaneously awesome and terrifying. So much to gain...so much to lose.

Eric broke our kiss, and he looked at me intently, and I could tell that he had felt my feelings for him. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me with the strangest expression I had ever seen.

Then without a word, he turned and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to all of you who have left comments, it really keeps me going! I was able to break through my writer's block and finish chapters 50, 51, and almost 52. This story is becoming a massive endeavor and I really appreciate all of your support. 
> 
> I had the suggestion to leave a little preview at the end of each chapter like this is the next installment of a TV show itself. As in, 'Next time on Call of the Blood'... would you all like that? I also was thinking of trying to host a blog or a Tumblr for inspiration photos and research that I have done for this story, would that be something that would be of interest? 
> 
> Just as a side note, it drove me insane when Sookie had Bill there when she babysat Arelene's kids on the show! Probably the most important piece of training I received as an educator was my child abuse prevention training. One of the things that predators of children will do is attach themselves to folks who work with children (like dating a daycare worker) so that they can get close to the children. Don't ever leave your children with someone that you didn't personally vet, even if you trust someone else that they're with. It was wrong of Sookie to spring that on Arelene, even if she was trying to prove a point about Bill. 
> 
> End of rant. 
> 
> Thanks for all the words of encouragement!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks, this chapter is a long one! It was 26 pages by the time that it finished! Whew!
> 
> Big shout out to my editor and Beta-reader, FumiyoSenka. She had some internet issues so we may end up doing some more revisions to this later, but it's definitely a better read now that her eyes have been on it!
> 
> Please note that I updated the tags on this story too, and I will try to put reminders and warnings at the beginnings of each chapter so folks can be aware.

Chap 9

Eric’s POV _Thursday, June 25th & Friday, June 26th, 2009_

What the fuck? Was she falling in love with me? It was an intense feeling that I hadn’t expected from her. Human love was usually so weak and fleeting. I drove down the road ridiculously fast. I couldn’t stop feeling her from the drops of my blood still in her veins. She was sad about the way that I had left. She was also resigned as if she had expected this. That perhaps was the worst feeling, living up to the expectation that I would disappoint her. When I got to the nest, I was thankful that Pam had already gone to ground because I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to fool her tonight. I went down to my bedroom, and I stayed up and got the bleeds trying to reason about what I was feeling and what I wanted.

May the Gods damn her! Why did she have to have such strong feelings for me? Why couldn’t she have been simple and plain like most humans?

I did have feelings for her. I would admit that much if only to myself. I didn’t know the exact extent of what they were, but ...I cared for her. I wanted to protect her and keep her safe. I wanted to understand her mind, and I wanted to pleasure her and make her come from my bite. But could I love her?

No.

At least, not in the way that she would want.

I didn’t know if I was capable of it. Of truly loving a human. Of investing in something doomed to die and turn to dust in just a few short decades. Humans, their lives were so quick, and their bodies so breakable. No, not worth it. I needed to back away from her. I would talk to her tonight after the interview. Explain what I could. I would even release her from her side of our agreement. I would no longer become invested in her. That was the wisest course of action.

When I woke from my day rest, I had a message from Jane.

**When should I come to Fangtasia to be interviewed?**

That was the extent of her message. I wondered if I would have to explain anything to her at all as she seemed to understand already. I would still try to talk to her, though, if only to alleviate any concerns she had.

I told her to arrive by nine so she wouldn’t have to wait around for all of the earlier interviews. Pam looked at me strangely as I heated up an O positive donor blood.

“What?” I asked her.

“You’re drinking donor blood?” she asked in her dry way.

“Yes,” I told her as the microwave dinged, and I grabbed the blood bag from inside.

“What is wrong with you?” she said after a moment’s pause, her eyes narrowing on me and staring.

“Nothing,” I told her as I forced the O positive down. It was fine. Blood was blood. At least it wasn’t Tru Blood. The taste of that was vile and metallic. And of course the States wouldn’t approve any of the more palatable bottled bloods, but only because those often contained a percentage of actual human blood. No, bagged donor blood was just scentless and mildly disappointing. Unsatisfying in the same way that all bottled and bagged types of blood were, nothing could replace the feeling of a warm body beneath one's fangs.

“Sure, and I have what people call a sunny disposition,” Pam snarked. “Is your little AB baby okay?” she asked.

“She’s fine. She’ll be at the club by nine for her interview,” I told my Progeny as neutrally as I could.

“Fine,” Pam replied. “Don’t tell me.” She stormed away, obviously in one of her moods.

I dressed casually in my blank tank and black slacks. I was not looking forward to this process, but only the results. I hoped that the cavity-inducing Sookie Stackhouse would use her abilities to find out who was behind the relatively large loss of funds. I smirked slightly at the thought of what I would do to the culprit.

At first dark, we went to the club. I drove Pam over in my precious Corvette, my favorite of all my many vehicles. She appreciated it, and I thought that perhaps I had been neglecting her a little bit. Longshadow was there, and I could see that he already had his mind made up that it was Bruce, our accountant. I doubted it very much as he was the one that brought the error to our attention.

Bill Compton and Sookie Stackhouse arrived, she looked like she was dressed for a date, and I wondered how much control Bill had over her. I explained the situation to her, and she was mouthy and disrespectful. Perhaps Bill liked to keep her feisty, even if it was risky to do so. He was shaming himself by allowing her to speak that way to other vampires. It made him look weak like he couldn’t control her even with the large amount of his blood he had fed her. I was surprised he hadn’t glamoured her to mind her mouth. It was all very...Interesting.

“If I find out who did it, then what?” she asked. I stared at her. Was she serious?

“We’ll turn that person over to the police and let the authorities handle it from there,” Longshadow stated. As if the police would do anything for us.

Sookie laughed. “Hundreds of years old, and you’re still a terrible liar. Come on!” she said. She wasn’t as naive as I initially thought. She turned to me. “I’ll make you a deal if you promise to hand over the person who did this to the police. I’ll agree to help you any time you want.”

I thought for a moment. It could be handy to have a willing telepath on retainer rather than a reluctant one. And I could always claim that I handed the guilty party over to the police even if they did end up in the holding cells later.

“All right,” I agreed with a smirk. It was almost cute that she thought this deal would keep me from dealing with them using my own version of justice. “Why not?”

Sookie cleared Bruce quickly, much to Longshadow’s disappointment. Sniveling coward that Bruce was, he was not our thief. Then Sookie used her telepathy to clear several more humans and Pam’s pets, all the while scrunching her face in disgust at their thoughts. I brought Ginger in last, disappointed. I was certain it was her, now that all the others had been eliminated - save Jane. She had been with us for so long, it was surprising to me that she would be the one that would steal from us this way. Jane would be here soon, and I was worried that Longshadow would dole out some gruesome justice to Ginger in front of sensitive little Jane.

As Ginger sat down, Jane quietly came in and sat at the bar, her back to Longshadow. She looked over at me blankly, and I could feel that she was a bit apprehensive about this whole process.

“Ginger, someone’s been stealing money from the bar,” Sookie started.

“Really. Huh..” Ginger replied, not sounding surprised. No, shit. She wouldn’t sound surprised if she was the thief.

“She didn’t do it, but she knows who did,” Sookie stated, looking up at me quickly.

Interesting.

“What! Fuck you!” Ginger spat at her.

“Who? Who’s going to kill you?” Sookie asked Ginger, evidently reading her thoughts about the person who stole the money. “Ginger honey, what’s his name?” Sookie demanded from her, staring intently at Ginger. After a few moments, Sookie just shook her head in frustration, “It’s blank like her memory’s been erased,” she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Ginger looked back at me. “I don’t know anything, I swear!” she said, shaking her head, eyes wide in fear.

“She’s been glamoured,” Pam told me in realization. Fuck! I should have interviewed the humans myself, checking them for glamours.

“It’s a vampire...” Sookie slowly mused, coming to the same conclusion as all of us.

Suddenly Longshadow leaped across the bar, throwing Jane out of the way in the process. Her head made a thudding sound as it hit against a barstool, and I rushed over to her instinctively to check her over. She was unconscious, but her heartbeat was steady, and her breathing was fine, so she was just knocked out. Meanwhile, Longshadow was trying to throttle Sookie, and Ginger was screaming and screaming...

“Ginger enough!” Pam shouted at her. And Ginger shut up.

“Thank you,” I said to Pam with an annoyed sigh. Humans. I picked Jane up and laid her on the bar, and checked her over again. Her pulse was strong, and I had to force myself to pull away from my feelings for her. Humans, so hard to keep from spoiling.

I was surprised that Longshadow was the culprit behind the theft. I watched as he pulled Sookie's neck back and was ready to bite her. Did he really think that ripping her throat out would prevent his punishment? Well, Longshadow had always been bloodthirsty; it was one of his best qualities. It was what made him such an excellent enforcer for our Area. But too much pride, never enough sense, was always a problem for him. I supposed that explained his thievery as well.

I had expected Bill to defend his human. To pull Longshadow off of her, or in the very least request that I as the Sheriff do something. But what he did instead was visceral. He leaned over the bar, pulled the wooden handle of tap off, and staked Longshadow through the back.

Longshadow’s demise resulted in a spectacular spray of blood all over Sookie. It completely coated her white dress and most of her body in blood before and then he exploded into a messy pile of gooey sinew and organs. Ginger started screaming again at the sight of Longshadow’s death, and Jane was still out cold on the bar. When Ginger finally stopped screaming, she took in the scene and vomited everywhere… and then she continued to scream.

“Humans,” I said. “Honestly, Bill. I don’t know what you see in them.”

Pam shook her head at me and looked pointedly at Jane. This was precisely why I needed to let go of Jane, claiming humans made one irrational and territorial. Killing instead of fucking thinking. Bill directed Sookie to go wash up in the bathroom, and Pam commanded Ginger to start cleaning up the mess.

“When Ginger is finished, glamour her for me,” I asked Pam staring blankly down at the sobbing mess of Ginger’s form.

“Are you sure? She’s been glamoured one too many times already. Who knows how much of her is left?” Pam replied, and the extent of her glamouring was even greater than we knew, what with Longshadow hiding his deceit.

“It’s either that or turn her,” I replied, as no human was allowed to witness a vampire’s death. “You want her?” I asked, joking with my Progeny.

“Please, I’m not that desperate,” Pam replied, a bit snippy, as she is every time I bring up her becoming a Maker again. “Glamour, it is.”

“Excellent,” I replied, knowing that it was settled.

I looked back up at Jane, still unconscious on the bar, and contemplated what to do with her. She would be fine. I would know more when she woke up, so I couldn’t worry about her for now. I forced myself to turn away from her prone form, and I turned to Bill instead.

“Come, I’ll buy you a blood,” I offered him and walked towards my office, my intent for him to follow me obvious. I wondered if he’d actually be able to drink it, the supposed Mainstreamer he was now. I grabbed him a bottle of True Blood from behind the bar on my way, and we went back to my office. I put the bottle in the microwave and watched Bill stew as it heated for fifteen seconds.

He knew that he broke the law in front of vampire and human witnesses. I would have to report him to the Magister. I was duty-bound as Sheriff. I wanted him out of my area. I didn’t trust Bill, and I knew how he had been raised. I had seen the depraved shit his Maker had taught him, and I didn’t think those early lessons ever really faded. No, Bill Compton could not be trusted, and I was certain that there was something else afoot here.

I handed him the warmed blood. “Thank you,'' he said, all southern manners.

“How do you stomach that stuff? Don’t you find it metallic and vile?” I asked him, trying to get a better read on the type of Mainstreamer he was.

“I don’t think about it. It’s sustenance, that’s all,” he replied manner of factly.

I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped at his response, and I went and sat behind my desk. Bill wasn’t very convincing. It was apparent that he was just trying to be a good boy now. As if sipping TruBlood would make up for the years he spent draining sex workers and fucking his Maker in their blood.

“What?” he asked politely.

“Well, if you’re their poster boy, the mainstreaming movement is very deep trouble.” Crossing my legs and relaxing back in my chair, I put on my salesman’s voice and drawled, “Tru Blood. It keeps you alive, but it will bore you to death.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Bill bit out, not liking that I saw right through his act.

“You killed a vampire, Bill. For a human. What are we going to do about that?” I asked. I wondered what he would offer me. I could try to cover this up for him. Longshadow’s Maker would come around asking questions and causing problems, which would make this a difficult task for me.

Bill’s jaw clenching, “What did you have in mind?” he asked in return. I felt this was an excellent time to learn what his interest was in the cloying little telepath. Other than her skill.

“I’ll take the girl,” I offered.

“No,” he replied immediately.

That was very telling. He and I exchanged a look, and I could see he knew I was onto him in his eyes. He immediately tried to backpedal, voice turning to that sickly sweet tone of the cornered.

“You can have anyone you want. You already have my descendant. Why would you want Sookie?”

“Why do you want her?” I asked instead, controlling the conversation with my questions. I was trying to figure out what it was about her that would cause him to kill a vampire impulsively. There were several other options that he could have chosen, but he reacted instinctively, killing for her on the spot. As if she were his kin, his own Progeny or Maker, like she was a blood sibling. Like he loved her, and I knew then that is what it was, but I asked anyway.

“You’re not in love with her, are you?”

“Sookie must be protected,” he said instead, dodging my question.

“Now, that sounds like an edict. But it couldn’t be, because I would know about that,” I stated, staring Bill down until he dropped his gaze and didn’t respond. That was it - he likely had a direct order issued by the Queen. But why?

I knew that Bill had most recently worked in the Queen’s court as a procurer, his line was supposedly gifted with an excellent glamour, which had made him a favored procurer and well-respected member of her court. I wondered about his purpose here. Was he truly here on the Queen’s orders? I would have to dig deeper and find out what he had done since coming to my Area. Perhaps it was nothing, and he really was just in love with the human telepath.

“Admit it. You love her,” I pushed him.

“If I hadn’t done what I did, would you have let his disloyalty stand?” Bill asked, trying to turn this back on me.

Staring him down, I made sure my tone reflected my unamused thoughts on his utter incompetence, “Whatever I did to Longshadow, I would not have done in front of witnesses. Especially not vampire witnesses. Not smart, Bill. Not smart at all.” While I was pissed that I didn’t get to exact any justice upon Longshadow myself, it was more than worth it to have something over Bill.

“Eric, it would behoove you to help me with this situation. After all, you want to have the use of Sookie’s abilities,” Bill replied in a honeyed voice as he tried to persuade me, taking a drink of his Tru Blood at the end of his statement. He was undoubtedly trying to appear casual, that was for sure.

“Perhaps. I also have obligations as Sheriff of Area 5,” I told him. “I imagine that the Magister will have to rule on this.”

“I will be in your debt if you can see any way around this,” Bill said.

“I will take that under advisement,” I told him. “Now, glamour your human and go.”

Bill’s expression twisted into a slight grimace, “She cannot be glamoured. Something about her telepathy prevents it,” he haltingly explained. That explained her attitude - Bill couldn’t glamour her to be respectful.

“Hmm.. interesting,” I replied. Very unusual.

Standing up with a nod, Bill walked away. I would report him to the Magister. It would be too risky for me not to, and besides, Bill had nothing to offer me. I sat in the office for a while, trying to figure out if there was any better solution. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t. Besides, if Bill spent a few years in a silver coffin, it would mean that he wouldn’t be here, and that could only be good for me. Rolling my options around in my head, I heard a soft knock on the door. Jane came in, and I could sense her headache and her dread.

“Pam said that you’d need to glamour me, that I’m not supposed to have seen…” she started anxiously, eyes refusing to meet mine.

I looked at her pale face. I felt my drops of blood in her quivering in fear. She was terrified again.

My gaze on her softened some, though I would never admit it, “No,” I told her. “You were unconscious. You didn’t see anything.” It was a close call, but I could get away with it.

Her relief was evident, and I could feel the relief from those drops of blood and that made me feel ...uncomfortable that I was so pleased to have her avoid something that she did not wish to do, even if it would have been wiser for me to glamour her. I was doing it again, acting irrationally because of her and her fucking feelings. I needed to continue with my plan to back away from her. I couldn’t become more invested in such a beautiful breakable thing, like a crystal vase that would inevitably smash to the floor.

Yanking away from my troubling thoughts, “I will have some business for the next several days,” I told her. I would have to take Bill to the tribunal, I was certain. It was also a good excuse not to see her. Help clear my head of her.

She nodded and looked at her feet. Yes, she had expected this, gods that pissed me off.

“I understand,” she told the floor, still not willing to look at me.

I wanted to shake her and tell her that she should demand better! She deserves better. I was failing her, failing at protecting her, failing at caring for her well.

“Jane,” I said softly, and she looked up at me with her turquoise eyes. I couldn’t help but fear for her, the strangler still on the loose. “Be safe.”

“Of course,” she replied with a slow nod. “Good luck with your...business.” Then she was gone.

_Perhaps she is right not to trust._

Godric’s words floated through my mind, and I wished that I had the strength to prove him and her wrong. I could feel her acceptance, tinged with melancholy, and I stifled the feeling of my blood in her. Now only her strongest emotions would get through.

It had to be done.

*****

Jane’s POV - Saturday, June 27th - Tuesday, June 30th, 2009

After the whole incident at Fangtasia, I spent the next day working tirelessly on the house. I found a unique antique bed frame at a cute little vintage shop in Shreveport, and I drove all the way out to the discount ‘Mattress Mania’ store in Monroe to buy a mattress for it. I felt like a princess in a fairytale as I laid on mattresses one after the other until I found one that I thought was just right. Perfectly firm and soft. Even with it being a discount store, the mattress still was costly, but I put it on my credit card I rarely used. I decided it would be worth it. It would be my own little nest. I could spend many a Sunday morning lazing around in it, drinking tea, sketching, and reading. I also went and paid for an oven and a fridge to be delivered and installed using a good chunk of my summer pay. My house was becoming livable.

Late in the afternoon, I went into Merlotte’s for lunch, and Arlene gave me forty dollars for babysitting her kids, it was only ten dollars an hour, but I didn’t mind. Arlene showed off her ring to everyone and was guilting Sam into letting her have an engagement party at the bar. I watched the exchange with amusement as I sat at the bar and ate a veggie burger and nibbled some french fries.

Sookie came into the bar with a terrible attitude, and I couldn’t blame her. I hadn’t actually seen Longshadow explode into a messy pile of organs, but I saw Sookie's dress and the pile of goo on the floor, and I could imagine that it was a pretty horrific thing to witness.

I paid for my burger and decided to drive out some of the old country roads. I loved exploring, and I was surprised and elated when I found a tree that was covered in shoes. I circled the tree, observing the different sizes and styles of shoes hanging from the branches, marveling at it all - what a strange and random wonder. The tree itself was an old weather oak, and hanging from every branch were pairs of shoes. It was adorned with sneakers and slippers, with ice skates and worn men’s loafers. I sat and sketched it for ages. I wondered who had started it and why? How did others hear about it and join in? It was strange, and I liked it immensely. My mind wandered to Eric’s assertion that I wasn’t normal.

I was starting to decide that maybe I wasn’t.

I didn’t like what other people liked, and I didn’t want what most people would want. I supposed I was different, and I decided that I was going to be okay with that. Everyone was different. Everyone was the same. I didn’t really mind being ‘different’ - I didn’t like labels, and I thought everyone had a bit of strangeness to them. I liked that, I accepted it, but I didn’t think that it made me special.

My favorite thing about the shoe tree was that there was occasionally just a single shoe. Its match would be gone. I wondered if those single shoe's had been tossed up there all alone. That they didn’t have a match, or maybe they were tossed up with a match, and it fell and was swept away by water, or weather, or an animal, and its mate was still stuck in the shoe tree. Alone. My favorite idea was that the shoe was created by itself without a match for a one-legged pirate. It was born without a match.

It lived and died alone.

I sketched a shoe tree of my own design, and it had only shoes without their matches on it. They were complete and perfect with no one and nothing. Free in the wind and far from others. Utterly content by themselves.

The sky faded to a deep indigo blue, and I didn’t have enough light to continue to draw anymore. I had intended to get out my hoodie and lay on the hood of my car and look at the stars, but I realized I had left it at the bar. I decided I would be too cold and uncomfortable without it, so I drove back to Merlotte’s to get it. I was surprised to see Pam and an Asian vampire I didn’t recognize standing outside. Bill and Sookie were talking, and it looked like they were arguing.

“Hey, Doll,” Pam said to me when I got out of my car.

“Hi, Pam. What’s going on?” I asked her, standing next to her.

“Bill has to go to the tribunal for staking Longshadow,” Pam said in her normal bored tone. When I looked at her with confusion, she elaborated. “Bill was a bad boy, and now he’s probably gonna get a timeout in the naughty coffin.” I looked over at the new vampire that I hadn’t met before. “This here is Chow, Chow this Jane.” Pam introduced us.

Chow looked at me and sniffed deeply. “She smells like Eric.”

Just then, Eric appeared beside us. “Jane is mine,” he said smoothly, and I tried to suppress my feelings at the sound of him uttering those words. I wasn’t sure if he still considered me his. Not after his chilly announcement yesterday. I had been trying to keep myself busy and not think about his words and how he was trying to cut ties with me. _Be safe._ It would have been easier if he had just said ‘goodbye’. I was drawn away from those thoughts by Sookie and Bill’s voices carrying across the parking lot.

“You lied to me. You said that everything was gonna be okay, but it’s not, is it?” Sookie asked him, looking betrayed.

“I honestly don’t know,” Bill told her in response.

“Tick-tock, Bill,” Eric called him.

“Bill…” Sookie said sadly.

Bill grabbed her by the shoulders. “Just look after yourself, all right? I’ve asked Sam to watch over you.”

“I wish you hadn’t have done that.”

“Be smart, Sookie, and just let him. There’s still somebody out there who wants to kill you.”

My memory of being strangled was fresh in my mind, and I rubbed my neck gently.

“Fine. I will.” Sookie said with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” Bill told her.

“And time,” Eric called out to them.

Bill kissed Sookie while she cried, and I remembered what Eric had told me about how kissing a human would be perceived as weakness. Bill must really love her.

“If I had any feelings, I’d have the chills right about now,” Pam said dryly.

Eric’s eyes briefly landed on me before he replied in clipped tones.

“Not me.”

Well, what a fucking contradiction he was. He still claimed me in front of this new guy Chow, but then basically said that kissing me was a mistake. I tried not to feel angry with him. I knew this would happen; I had known from the moment I saw him on that throne.

Sookie and Bill continued to kiss, and Eric had to yell again to get Bill to stop.

“Bill. Now,” Eric said. Bill left Sookie standing there crying. Eric, Bill, Pam, and Chow all left, and Eric didn’t say anything else to me at all.

I was sick of his bullshit.

Tara had come out, apparently to talk to Sookie. They seemed to be making up from some kind of argument. I went into the bar getting back to my original purpose for coming here. I saw a waitress with long brown hair that I hadn’t met yet.

“Hi, I left my hoodie here earlier, and I don’t know where it would have ended up.”

“Yeah, I’m new here, so I’m not sure either. Let me get these plates out, and I’ll ask back in the kitchen,” the waitress said with a customer service smile.

“Sure, no problem,” I said, and I sat at the bar waiting for her. She went to the serving window, and I heard her ask a cook in that back where it might be.

“Nuh-uh. They’s can’t have it back. It’s Lala’s now,” I heard a sassy voice respond.

I went over and peered through the window and back into the kitchen, and I saw the chef holding my small pink hoodie up to his much larger frame. He was a handsome black man with lovely false eyelashes, and I knew he had to be tough as hell to live his truth in rural Louisiana, where homophobia and racism were as commonplace as country music and pickup trucks.

“I’ll let you keep it if you like it that much,” I told him with a small smile.

“Hmmm… If I could fit it in, I would accept that offer! Here you go, baby girl,” he said, handing it out to me.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Lafayette, you’re a riot!” The new waitress said.

I gave them a little wave goodbye and went back out to my car. The sky was full of stars, and I decided that I would go find a good stargazing spot now that I had my hoodie. The graveyard actually would work pretty well. Then when I was tired enough, I would just be able to walk home. I drove home, and I got a quilt out and found a spot in the graveyard to sit.

The night was quiet except for the occasional animal sound and the whistle of the wind through the trees. I liked it. I felt calm amongst the tombstones. I tried not to think about my recent disappointment with Eric and decided to think about things I could control. My house, getting a job, making a life for myself in this weird-ass town. Hopefully not getting strangled in the process. I was torn from my thoughts when I saw a dog running through the graveyard. I got up and followed it; poor pup was probably lost.

The dog went right over to Sookie’s house, and I saw her get out of her car and start talking to it. Oh, it must be her dog. Kind of irresponsible of her just to let it roam around. I grumbled a little bit as I walked away back to my quilt. I wondered if I would like to have a pet. I had never considered it before, living in an apartment. Maybe I would get a cat! I liked that idea a lot. I could go to a shelter. I would want an older cat, maybe one that had trouble getting adopted. I mused on this idea for a while until I heard raised voices coming from Sookie’s house.

My immediate thought was that the killer was back. I spirited over, my cell phone out, ready to dial 911. When I got there, I was surprised to see only Sam Merlotte sitting on her front porch. They must have been arguing because Sookie slammed the door, and he stayed outside. What I saw next made me blink several times and doubt my sanity.

Sam Merlotte just turned into the dog. The same dog that I had seen Sookie talking to earlier.

Wait...what?

I shook my head and went and sat back down on the quilt. I knew now that there was more out there than just vampires, but just how much more? My mind began to spin. Dogmen, apparently, werewolves probably, but what else could there be? There was still so much I didn’t know… My mind spun and wove stories of all the things that I had ever heard of and all the possible creatures that went bump in the night. I found I wasn’t afraid. If anything, I found that I loved the idea that there was more out there than what I could see. I found beauty in the unknown.

I fell asleep in the graveyard on my quilt, and I woke to the birds singing me awake. I walked back to my house to find that my door had been pried open.

The killer had tried to break into my house.

I looked at the damage to my door and my door frame. I checked the house nervously, my cell phone ready to dial for the cops, but it was empty. I called down to the non-emergency line at the Sheriff’s department. They said that they would send the Sheriff and the detective out right away. I quickly changed and made a pot of tea, trying to look put together and not as if I had just slept in a graveyard.

I greeted the law enforcement men politely. Sheriff Dearborne was a slight man that reminded me of an aging bloodhound with droopy eyes, and I doubted if anyone in the parish found him intimidating. His expression was pained, and I wondered if he had poor health. Detective Bellefleur was about as far from a ‘beautiful flower’ as one man could be. He was solid and square with a barrel chest and balding head. He gave me the impression of someone that thought they didn't get the respect they were due. I had always been curious about the types of people law enforcement attracted, and I wondered if most of them did for the right reasons. I invited them in and offered them tea, and they asked for my statement.

“Well, when I got home this morning, I noticed that my door had been pried open. Someone had broken in, but nothing was missing,” I explained.

“You weren’t home at all last night?” Sheriff Dearborne asked me.

“No...I accidentally fell asleep in the graveyard after stargazing,” I told him embarrassedly.

“Uh...sorry to ask this, but were you alone in the graveyard?” the Detective asked me, looking utterly confused.

“Well, I mean there’s lots of tombstones and I suppose dead people under them…” I rambled not really understanding his question.

“You weren’t there with a different type of dead person, a vampire, maybe?” the Sheriff asked, and I finally got their meaning. They wanted to know if I was having sex with a vampire in the graveyard?

“No, I was alone,” I told him firmly.

“Cause you did have a bite not so long ago and—“

“No, I promise you, I was alone. Stargazing.”

“That may well have saved your life,” the Sheriff said, and it didn’t seem like he believed me. “You were already targeted by the killer once.”

That was terrifying. All because of a stupid bite. No, that was the wrong way to think about this. All because of one bigoted asshat.

“Do you have any idea who it is? Are you close to catching them?” I asked, setting my trembling teacup down.

“We have several theories at this time,” the Detective replied. Which to me meant, no, they had no idea who it was.

“Do you have any friends or family you could stay with?” Sheriff Dearborne inquired.

I shook my head. I didn’t know anyone well enough to ask if I could stay with them.

“You may want to consider getting yourself a gun,” Detective Bellefleur recommended.

“I don’t know anything about guns,” I told them.

“It was just a suggestion. Call the station at the first sign of trouble,” the Sheriff stated with a shrug, and I was not reassured. He examined the door for a bit, and then they left.

My first task was to fix my door, so I drove downtown to the Super-Save-A-Bunch hardware store. I got the basic supplies that I needed to fix my door frame. I noticed a hunting store nearby, so I walked over. I wasn’t sure I would get a gun or even have a preferred gun-type that I would want. I looked around, feeling out of my element. I was a teacher. We did lockdown drills and practiced what to do if there was an armed intruder; I was not a fan of guns.

“Uh...you lost?” a rather rotund man with a mullet asked me, he appeared to be the owner.

“Maybe. What kind of gun would you recommend for me for self-defense?” I asked.

He showed me a bunch of smaller handguns that were less intimidating. As he was showing them off to me, the door to the shop opened, and Terry walked in.

“Hey, Jane,” he greeted me. “What’s new, Jimmy?” he asked the proprietor.

“Your friend here is thinking about getting a gun,” Jimmy told Terry.

“Whatcha need a gun for?” Terry asked me, tensing up and looking straight at me.

“Detective Bellefleur recommended that I consider getting one. They think that killer broke into my house last night while I was out.”

“My damn fool cousin,” Terry exclaimed. “You should not get a gun.” He turned to Jimmy. “Don’t you try to sell her one neither.”

“Terry, come on, man, the girl has a right to defend herself.”

“This girl doesn’t even eat meat. She wouldn’t even use that gun if it was in her hand. It just is a convenient weapon to hand over to her killer!” Terry yelled at him.

I hadn’t thought of that. Would I even use it? I thought I could if I had to.

“Come on, Jane,” Terry said, and I left with him.

We walked down the sidewalk. “If you really did want a gun, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground in front of us sheepishly.

“Nah, you’re probably right,” I replied. “I’m just...I’m scared,” I told him. He stopped walking and so did I and he looked at me for a moment.

“Come to Arlene’s party tonight. That way, you don’t have to be alone in that big house,” he offered kindly.

I nodded—that made sense.

“Okay. Terry. I’ll be there,” I said.

He looked at me weirdly, as if trying to make sure I was telling him the truth. “Good,” he said with a satisfied nod and walked away.

I tilted my head and smiled - Terry certainly was interesting, that was for sure. I went home and fixed the hardware on my door well enough that it shut and locked, but it wouldn’t keep the killer out if he really wanted to get in. I went upstairs and showered and changed into a nice dress for the party. I even curled my hair, if only to have something to do that wasn’t thinking about the murderer. I found myself missing Eric. I knew that he would keep me safe. I felt ridiculous. Eric… I wasn’t even sure if he would still say that I was his by the time he got back from the Tribunal thing. I wasn’t sure that I even wanted him to.

In many ways, I was glad that Eric was already distancing himself from me. I knew that it would happen at some point. I got into my car and continue to think about him on my drive over. Eric wasn’t going to get in deep with me. I could tell that about him from the moment I sketched him, from the way his eyes caressed the women in his club. He wasn’t about the emotional connection to human women. Eric was all about the physical.

He was doing me a kindness, really, not letting me get in deeper with him.

When I got to the party, it was already in full swing. A band was playing, and Rene and Arlene were dancing up a storm. I was so not a dancer; sometimes, I felt like my body was just a place I stored my mind and had no real connection with it. Like it was the car that got me from point A to point B. I had told this to a teacher friend at school when they asked me why I didn’t want to come to the Dallas clubs with them on the weekends, and she had looked at me like I was crazy, so I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone since. Coby and Lisa came up to me, and I spent a long time with them, getting regaled with tales of how their paintings were on the fridge and how everyone loved them. And with other random anecdotes about school and their Mama getting married.

Eventually, they got bored talking to me, and I went over to where Terry stood, speaking with Sookie.

“Guilt is a useless emotion,” Terry was saying. “Or so I’ve heard.” He added at the end.

“I just wish Bill was here,” Sookie told us.

Terry thought about that for a moment. “There’s some dead people I wish was still around, too,” he said, and I smiled at him sadly. Me too. My Mama died in a car accident. A drunk driver hit her. My Daddy died my senior year of high school after battling cancer on and off for most of my memory. I wished I would have gotten to know them.

Terry had a faraway look in his eye. “Terry?” I asked him, and he snapped back to the present.

“Yeah?”

“Can you show me where to get a soda?” I asked.

“Oh, sure,” he said, perking up a bit and holding out his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. I placed my arm in the crook of his, and he smiled at me grandly. As he led me over to an ice bucket, I couldn’t help but grin back at him. “There’s orange, cherry, something that looks like cola, but it ain’t,” Terry explained while pointing to the various cans and bottles in the bucket.

“Cherry’s fine,” I said, and he handed it to me. “How’s Felix?” I asked.

“He’s good. I fed him a bunch of insects earlier,” he replied, and I smiled.

“Hey, Terry, Jane,” Sam said, coming up to us. “What’s this?” he asked, looking between us and tick-tocking his finger between the two of us.

“What?” Terry asked.

“Did you invite Jane here as your date?” Sam asked, looking impressed.

“Uh...I mean, I did ask her here. Did you think this was a date?” he turned to me, looking freaked out.

“I didn’t. I thought you just asked me as a friend,” I replied honestly, a feeling of worry creeping up a smidge - he was such a sweetheart, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Oh. Good. ‘Cause, that’s what I thought too,” he said, looking relieved, and he put his hand on his heart like he had a heart attack.

“Alright then,” Sam said with an amused smile. “Well, I hope you both have a good time, at your not a date,” he said as he walked away, and I could tell he had a hint of sarcasm there.

“I’m glad that we’re friends, Terry,” I told him.

“Me too. You don’t make me feel weird about being weird,” he said, ruffling his hair as he glanced away from me.

I nodded. I understood exactly what he meant.

“Do you want to sit and not feel forced to talk about anything?” I asked, gesturing to two empty chairs.

“That sounds great!” he replied and grabbed a beer. We sat together and people watched.

After a good couple of minutes of people watching, he suddenly turned to me, “Do you want any food?” he asked enthusiastically. I smiled at him and tilted my head to the side as I thought.

“Ummm...can you just grab me a corn on the cob?”

He shook his head and laughed, “You’re like a rabbit,” he poked at me.

I shrugged, and he got up to get us some food.

Waiting for Terry to come back, Arlene came over looking excited. “Are you and Terry datin’!?” she asked with a bit of a squeal.

This was going to be a long night if that’s what everyone thought.

“No. We’re friends,” I replied calmly.

“Awww, well he’s real sweet. You could do a lot worse in this town, believe me,” she said, and I could tell that she spoke from experience.

The brown-haired waitress from last night that helped me get my hoodie joined us.

“Hi, I’m Amy,” she said, introducing herself and holding out a hand.

“Jane,” I replied, and we shook hands. There was something not quite right about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Just shaking her had given me a woozy lighted head feeling, like the time I had accidentally taken too much cough syrup.

“Jane was just telling me that she and Terry are just friends.”

I sighed, shaking off the weird feeling, and trying to figure out what Arlene was saying. Sookie plopped down across from me, looking like she was in a bad mood. She looked over from me to where Terry was in line to get us food and I knew that I would have to keep saying it over and over until folks believed me.

“Men and women can just be friends, you know,” I told them.

“Sure. If one of them is gay!” Arlene said outrageously, making the other women giggle and smile. “I’m just kiddin’. I just wish everyone was as happy as Rene and me,” she squealed. I was thankful when she seemed to change the subject. Arlene waxed on for a bit about Rene’s many good attributes ranging from his butt to how good he was with the kids. I was happy for her.

Amy, I learned, was dating Sookie’s brother, the one I had heard described as a horndog. I also got the impression that he wasn’t too bright either.

Terry came and brought me my corn without a word and walked away, obviously not wanting to get drawn into the “lady gossip” and I wished that I could join him without being rude.

“I don’t know how anyone can trust anybody these days. They’re always keeping things from you. And you don’t even know who people are or what they are,” Sookie grumpily said, and we all sat in tense silence for a little bit. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with trust issues.

“Well, you know what I love about Jason?” Amy said, trying to rid the table of the awkwardness. “Everything is just right there on the surface. You never have to wonder what he’s thinking.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he ain’t thinkin’,” Sookie said, and Arlene laughed.

Just then, Tara stumbled up to the table. The strong scent of alcohol wafted off of her, and with the way that she swayed it was clear that she was drunk as a skunk.

“Hey, girlfriends, what’s up?” she slurred slightly.

“Tara, you look--you look great,” Arlene said, trying not to say that Tara looked sloshed.

“Prom night 2000, I ain’t wore it since.” Taking a second to digest what she said, I quickly figured out if she hadn’t worn her dress since her senior prom. That meant she was probably only two or three years younger than me.

“Well, it still fits you,” Amy said in a phony nice kind of way.

“Tara, come here,” Sookie got up and pulled her away.

Amy and Arlene gossiped a little bit, and I learned that Tara’s mother was an alcoholic and that everyone figured Tara was going down the same path. I had never liked being part of these types of conversations and I felt stuck at this table. I felt trapped at this party because I was afraid to go home. I was afraid to be alone in my house waiting for the killer to come and find me. I rubbed my neck, trying to rid myself of the memory of the belt being tightened around it.

I nibbled my corn, and Arlene got up to check on things, and Amy went to chat with Jason, he was a very handsome fellow that looked familiar to me but I could quite place him. I sat at the table alone for a while, and then I saw Tara stumble into her car, taking a long pull of vodka straight from the bottle before slamming her car door. I got up to go and stop her, but even at run she had been too fast and had already driven away.

This was very bad. She should not be driving!

Should I get in my car and follow her? I had waited too long, and I didn’t know which direction she had gone. I went to try to find Sookie. I knew that Tara was her friend, maybe she would know where she would go or how to help.

“Where’s Sookie?” I asked Arlene.

“She just went inside to get some ice.” Arlene gestured to the bar, and I went in. The bar was dark and empty, and I suddenly felt afraid.

“Hello? Sookie?” I called into the darkness. Then I heard a crash from the kitchen and Sookie was struggling to crawl through the serving window, a man’s hand trying to grasp her ankle.

The killer!

I ran to Sookie, grabbing her by the arms, our eyes meeting in mutual terror. She was able to break free and we ran to the front together and then Sam was standing there, and Sookie threw herself into his arms.

Sam wanted to go investigate who it was but Sookie was clinging to him.

“No, no, no. please, please don’t leave me,” she begged him to stay.

“I saw him too!” I told him and my voice trembled, and I realized that I was shaking. “He was here.” Why was he here? To kill me? To kill Sookie? Who would be next? Was anywhere safe?

Just then, my phone rang, making me jump.

“Your fear is extremely inconvenient,” Eric told me when I answered.

“I’m fine. Just got chased by the killer,” I told him. “Sorry.”

He sighed. “Can’t you stay safe for more than one night?”

“Evidently not because the murderer tried to break into my house last night too,” I blurted to him.

“Stay somewhere else.” He tried to order me.

“Thanks for the advice. You don’t need to call next time you feel my fear. Just...go back to your business,” I told him.

“Jane-” He started to say, but I hung up. I walked away from Sam comforting Sookie. I got in my car and drove home. I was trying not to mull on the fact that my fear was inconvenient. That _I_ was inconvenient. I stayed up all night, waiting for the killer to come, but he never did. I felt like shit when I realized that I never told anyone about Tara driving drunk. If she got hurt or hurt someone else, I would be at least partially responsible for not stopping her. I fell into a fitful sleep once I saw the sunrise, dreaming of the killer’s belt around my throat.

I woke late in the afternoon, not feeling rested at all. I showered, and then I went over to Merlotte’s, hoping to apologize to Terry for bailing on the party without saying goodbye. He was working in the back, doing a double shift, and I could tell he was frustrated and busy.

“I just wanted to say…” I started.

“I just don’t want you to get killed,” he said, slamming a pot down on the stove and not letting me finish. “Too many of my friends have been killed already.”

“I am sorry,” I apologized sincerely to him.

“Stay here,” he asked me. “Stay until I get off work, and then let me get my gun and I’ll come and stay on your porch.”

“Terry...is that really…” I started. But he was giving me the crazy eye, so I relented.

“Fine. But I better get an awesome salad tonight,” I said, and he grinned and got back to flipping burgers.

I sat at the bar and waited. I talked to Sam and he promised that he would find out if Tara was okay. Many people came and went, and I looked at the men and wondered if any of them were the killer. I ate my salad, and the night dragged on and on. I hadn’t even brought my sketchbook in. Finally, Terry closed up the kitchen and walked me out to my car.

“I’ll meet you over there. Just don’t get killed in the meantime,” he said a bit gruffly.

“Okay, I’ll try not to.” I got in my car and drove home. I sat in it, scared to get out. What if the killer was already in there waiting for me? My hands were gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone rang.

Eric.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hello,” he replied evenly.

“You rang?” I asked, still a bit tetchy. Why was he even bothering?

“Are you safe?” he asked.

“I have a friend coming with his gun to stay with me tonight,” I told him.

“The chef? The one that saw you nude?” he inquired.

“Yes, but he’s just a friend,” I reminded him, and he said something in a language I didn’t recognize. If I had to guess I imagined that he was cursing.

“I… just be wary,” he replied.

“Fine,” I said. I saw headlights behind me. “He’s here now. I’ve gotta go.”

“Call me tomorrow,” he asked, a hint of something raw in his voice that made me give in.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Just… stay safe.” He hung up.

I got out of the car, not thinking about Eric’s hot and cold behavior towards me.

“Waitin’ in the car. Good,” Terry said, and he was all decked out in military gear.

I led him up to the house. He checked all the points of entry and secured the back door.

“Alright, you go up to your bed, and I will be here.” He indicated the chair he had put on the front porch.

“You’re going to be okay, right?” I asked him.

He nodded. “Just don’t sneak up on me.”

“What should I do?” I asked.

“Just announce yourself.”

“Okay.” I turned and went inside. I lingered in the doorway. “Thank you, Terry. You’re a really good friend.”

“I...I don’t got a lot of folks that I can call that anymore. So, I’m gonna do my best to make sure you stay alive," he replied.

I went upstairs, changed into my pajamas, and crawled into bed. I was so tired. I plunked myself in the center of my bed and fell straight asleep.

_Eric and I were sitting on my bench, looking out over the valley._

_“Why are we here?” I asked him._

_“This is where it all started, right?” he asked._

_“Yes,” I said. “This is the place.”_

_“What are you looking for?” he asked me._

_“I don’t know anymore,” I told him. “I wanted what I had here.”_

_“What was that?” Eric asked me._

_I stood up, not sure how to answer. There, on the other bench, was my silver-eyed friend. His hair was dark, and his smile was somehow sad._

_“Why didn’t you come back here?” Silver-eyes asked me._

_I shrugged._

_“You were too afraid?” he guessed._

_“Yes. I wanted to keep you perfect. I didn’t want it to get spoiled by the inevitable.”_

_“The inevitable?” Eric asked._

_“Yes, the inevitable disappointment. Just let me have this.” I begged him. And I wasn’t sure what I meant by this. Did I mean the weird relationship that I had with him, or the moment that I had here?_

_“You’re the one that can’t seem to let the feeling go. Are you looking for it in me? You keep chasing it, finding it around every tombstone and star,” Eric sniped back._

_“Those are just a taste,” I said, mostly to myself._

_“A taste of what?” my friend asked._

_“Of that night. Of what I want,” I told him._

_“What is that you want?” Eric asked._

_I shook my head. I didn’t know. I couldn’t figure it out. Something like groundbreaking wonder, a connection to a limitless past, an utter and complete trust and surrender. What was that?_

_“Just leave me alone,” I told them. “I’ll stop searching,” I said half-heartedly._

_“You need to know what you’re searching for,” Eric said. “That way, I can help you find it. Just tell me what you need, and I will give it to you.”_

_“I know you will figure it out,” My friend replied confidently. “You will figure it out.”_

I woke up with my dream slipping away again. Eric was there. We were on the ridge…It was gone. I showered and dressed. I announced myself loudly, and Terry didn’t jump.

“Want to go get breakfast?” I asked him.

“Yep,” he said. “I’ll drive.”

“I’ll pay,” I said, and he agreed.

We went to a diner not far away. I was able to get a bowl of oatmeal and fruit, and he had eggs and bacon, and we sat in comfortable silence.

“I saw a deer with her fawn,” he told me. “Walked right in front of me.”

“That’s neat.” I would have liked to see that.

“Yeah. It was.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I’m gonna drop you off and go home and nap before my shift tonight.”

“Good idea,” I told him. He looked dead on his feet.

“I’ll come an’ stand guard again tonight,” he promised me and grabbed my hand tightly, and I could feel the fear in his grip.

“Terry, would it be easier if we just didn’t tell anyone and I came to where you lived? That way...the killer wouldn’t know where to find me, and even if they did figure it out...you’d still be there to protect me?”

He blinked a couple of times, letting his tired brain process that.

“Yeah, but you’ll have to sleep on my bed, and Felix sleeps under it.”

“I’m okay with that. Or the couch.”

He said something about entry points and perimeter and how I wouldn’t be safe on the couch. I agreed to sleep in his bed, and he seemed satisfied.

“I think I’m just going to spend the afternoon sketching in the graveyard, and then I’ll come to Merlotte’s.”

“Good. Alright.” I paid for our food and left a good tip, and we walked out to the parking lot so Terry could drive me back home.

As we were about to get in the truck, Terry’s phone rang.

“What is it, Cuz?” he answered.

He looked over at me as we stood outside his truck, and he looked puzzled.

“Jason Stackhouse?” he said, confused. “He ain’t no killer.”

There was a moment while he listened to the reply.

“He confessed? That just don’t seem right,” Terry said, and he unlocked the door to the truck.

“I’m not datin’ her,” he said, looking over at me, blushing slightly. “Well, yes, I was at her house, but that-”

He looked at his phone and hung up.

“Well, according to my cousin, they arrested Jason Stackhouse this mornin’ for the murders. His girlfriend Amy is dead. Strangled too. He confessed.”

“You don’t think it could have been him?” I asked, pulling myself up into the passenger side of the truck. Amy. I had just met her, just talked to her at the party. It was hard to believe that she was dead now.

“I...don’t.” He shook his head. “There’s something off about this whole thing.”

I shrugged. It seemed like it was settled if he confessed.

“I’ll still come to Merlotte’s at dark,” I offered.

“Nah, I guess it’s alright. But if anything feels off, you call me, okay? Even if I’m workin’,” he said, and I made sure that I had his number in my phone.

He dropped me off at home, and I got my quilt and my sketchbook and laid in the shade of a large tombstone. It was nice and quiet, and I finally let myself unclench. It seemed like all this serial killer stuff was done now. I focused on my sketch for a long time, lost in the rhythm. I was in my element, my focus entirely on my art.

Suddenly, I heard shouting. I peeked my head around the tombstone to see who would be yelling like that in a place like this.

“Mind reading, vampire-fucking, freak bitch!” Rene was shouting, with no Cajun accent, punching Sookie in the face. He wrapped his hands around her throat. He was strangling her!

He was the killer!

I crouched low and looked around. What should I do? I couldn’t let him keep hurting her!

“Think you’re so smart! You smart now?” he yelled, and he was choking her. I was just going to have to tackle him. I was about to run out when the dog that I recognized as Sam was there. He jumped on Rene, biting him around the neck, forcing him to let go of Sookie. Rene’s hand found a little statue someone had placed at a grave, and he grabbed it and used it to knock Sam-the-dog off of him. Sookie wasn’t moving...I hoped she wasn’t dead. I crept a little closer.

Rene kicked Sam roughly in the ribs, and Sam fell unconscious and shifted back into human form.

“Fuck you! You fuckin’ freak fuck!” Rene said as he kicked Sam’s limp form.

I rushed forward. I didn’t know what I would do, but I couldn’t stand by and watch any longer. I saw a shovel, and snatched it up and used it to hit Rene in the back of the head. He went down, spitting up blood. I moved over to check if he would stay down, but he grabbed me by the leg and pulled me down.

Suddenly I was on the ground, and he was above me. He smacked me hard across the face, and I felt blood spew from my mouth.

Without hesitation, I brought the shovel up with as much strength as I had just as Rene was leaning in to try to strangle me. The shovel wedged into his body under his sternum. I felt the wooden handle beneath my hands as it slid into his body, the feeling of it, the push. His mouth poured blood on me. I was frozen in the moment, the shock, the horror, the pain, and for a moment, I felt an intense swelling of tumultuous rage and then...nothing. I reveled in the moment of nothingness. It was totally silent, an abyss. Blissfully empty. Then I felt disgusted with myself. What was wrong with me? I pushed Rene off of me, and I stood and looked down at him. The shovel was still protruding from his chest. His eyes were wide open and staring, glassy, and blank.

He was dead.

I sank to my knees.

I killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we are! 
> 
> I appreciate every single comment and kudo, seriously, y'all are the best. It's truly lovely to know that folks read and appreciate your work.
> 
> There is going to be a pause on this story for next week to give us some time to get ahead on proofing/editing (and also my birthday is next week, so I'll be a little extra busy!) But then we will get back to a regular posting schedule. 
> 
> ~ Soft


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! I had an excellent birthday, thank you to everyone who sent me birthday wishes. 
> 
> Send some love to my beta reader, FumiyoSenka, who had an injury and persisted anyway to get this chapter edited and revised!

Chap 10

Eric’s POV - _Monday, June 29th, 2009_

I was pulled from my day rest by Jane’s fear, and then by her pain, and moments later, a deeply disturbing feeling.

What in the seven Hels was happening with her?! I tried to call her, but she didn’t answer. I got dressed and paced the nest restlessly. It was still hours until dark, and there was nothing I could do to assist her. I had to grab a rag and dab at my ears; the bleeds getting worse the longer I stayed up. Eventually, her pain was less but still lingering, and she had calmed slightly. She still felt odd, and I tried to call her again, and this time she answered.

“What has happened?” I asked.

“Well...I ...that is the killer...what I mean to say…” She tried to say a bunch of different ways, and her voice sounded soft and pained.

“Jane, just tell me,” I demanded.

“I killed a man,” she replied, she was calm, but it sounded like she was barely opening her mouth. “The strangler, the serial killer.”

“You...killed him?” I asked her, trying not to let surprise color my voice. This delicate little flower that didn’t even eat meat killed a man?

“Yeah. With a shovel in the graveyard. The killer was strangling Sookie,” she explained. I was impressed, my little Valkyrie indeed.

“He hurt you,” I stated, feeling her pain increase.

“He hit me across the face. I’m on the way to the hospital now,” she said, and I heard her talking through gritted teeth.

“Her jaw is broken, and she shouldn’t be talkin’,” a man’s voice said.

“I can tell your friend is taking you to the hospital. I will see you tonight.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

I hung up. Jane killed a man. I was surprised she was capable of such an act. I shouldn’t be, people were truly capable of almost anything, and I found myself thankful that she could defend herself, especially during the day when I wouldn’t have been able to help her. It was too late for me to try to get any day rest, so I went and checked emails and other work in my office. Once Pam was awake, I told her of my plan for the evening.

“I am going to see Jane at first dark,” I told her.

“I thought maybe you were bored with that one now,” she replied, sitting down on the couch with her warmed blood bad and flipping on her reality show that  
seemed mostly to consist of rich women scheming and yelling at each other.

“She killed a man today,” I said as blandly as possible to see if I could get a reaction.

Pam turned away from the screen and stared at me. “That one that was stranglin’ the women?” she questioned after a moment.

“The very one.” I couldn’t help but grin slightly.

“Good for her.” She turned back to her program. “I wouldn’t have thought she’d have it in her.” That was high praise coming from Pam.

“She was injured. I will check on her and then come to the bar,” I explained, grabbing my black jacket and walking towards the door.

“The vermin will want to see you. What with being gone for a few nights,” she scolded.

Pausing to turn and stare at her, “You will be in charge of the baby,” I ordered her, and she looked at me like I had just told her to pull out her own fangs. Bill Compton’s fucking baby vamp was going to be a massive pain in the ass. But babysitting her for Bill seemed to be the best course of action. Of course, we had arrived late to the Tribunal and had to stand the whole time. Bill’s teary and long-winded goodbye with the sugary telepath wasn’t worth having to stand all fucking night while Magister went on and on.

The tribunal had been long and tedious, and I hated the Magister even more than usual. I had run-ins with him before… I tried not to think about those times. It shamed me to think of my human that he had killed, darling Rachel that gave herself up to protect me, that chose to die rather than be turned. Fuck… I turned my thoughts away from her and my hatred of the Magister.

The Magister didn’t even silver Bill in a coffin as I had hoped he would. Instead, he forced Bill to create a progeny to replace Longshadow and ordered Pam and I to make sure that she rose. The very next night, Bill brought her to us, unwilling (or perhaps incapable) of raising her well, the fool that he was. So we had taken on Bill’s newborn, partly because I wanted leverage over him and partly because he was such an idiot. I worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle the relatively weak creature he created.

“She needs constant supervision,” I told Pam sternly. Pam shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but you owe me,” Pam claimed.

“I’m leaving now,” I reported as it was full dark. Pam nodded me off absently, turning back to her reality TV show, and I punched the code in to release the door and flew out into the night. I could feel Jane through my drops of blood in her. She wasn’t in as much pain as before, but still some. She felt tired.

When I reached her house, I saw that Jane had left a light on, perhaps for me? I walked in and felt for her through the blood, feeling the pull originating from upstairs. Following the feeling, I climbed up the stairs and went to her bedroom. Jane was in the middle of a creaky antique bed, and a quilt had tucked gently around her. I could tell that it was her ‘friend’, the chef that placed the blanket around her by the scent. The thought that he may have seen her nude irked me, but I pushed the feeling aside for now. Jane’s eyes were open, and she was sitting up, watching me curiously. She had a bandage wrapped around her chin and the top of her head to hold a cold pack to her cheek. My first thought was that Jane looked rather adorable in this state, pouty and sweet. I then began to question my sanity again.

“How are you?” I asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, making the whole thing squeak in protest.

She got out her sketchbook and wrote in a small neat script.

_Fine. I have a hairline fracture to my jaw. The doctor said not to talk for tonight and only eat liquid foods for the next few days._

“I see,” I told her, and I looked at the swelling of her face. Yes, I could believe it was broken. It was hard to see her this way, my failure so evident on her skin. I could not help but offer. “Let me heal you with the blood.”

_No, thank you, I will be fine in a couple of weeks._

I was surprised by her answer. She knew what the blood could do, and yet she still refused it? I could feel her trying to distance herself from me in the blood, how she had smothered her joy at my presence. I had never had a steadfast refusal before, and I found myself at a complete loss. What was she? She was maddening! I didn’t understand her at all.

“How do you feel about killing a man?” I asked her instead, and I felt something strange in the blood. Pride, worry, guilt, and… a sense of rightness and relief.

_Conflicted._

Her hand trembled slightly as she wrote.

Times were so different now. I had killed my first man in battle, and I had been expected to do so from a very young age. I had been trained to use an ax from when I was a boy and was given a proper blade at the age of twelve. Even as a human, my feelings about killing my enemies were not conflicted. During the time I had been made vampire killing humans was unavoidable. Survival had been paramount. Godric had prioritized it above almost all other things. We did not always know when we would be able to find humans, and we had to keep moving, lest they realize what we were. The only line Godric would never cross was to use his glamour to enslave humans to him, as many in that time had done.

In those early days, I hadn’t known Godric’s history, so it had confused me at first why he simply didn’t glamour humans to follow his orders, to feed us, and let us reside in their homes. Once he confided in me some of his past, his reasoning against enslavement made perfect, yet terrifying, sense.

Godric taught me the tightest control. I was never to be ruled by my emotions, including bloodlust. We never revelled in the killing, it was as strategic as battles had been in my human life, but there was certainly pleasure in it. The art of death, the skill of a well-executed plan that ended with blood flowing freely into my mouth, was one of un-life’s simple pleasures. It was the coolly calculated pleasure of success. It was not what so many vampires had come to do, the wild ecstasy of blood orgies, the total unleashing of the predator so that it ravaged and devoured anything in its path, fueled only by the need for blood and sex.

Godric said they would not survive, ruled so much by their animalistic drive. He, of course, was correct. Moderation was the modus operandi for Godric, and it still was today. Well, until he had started trying to fast within the last century.

My Maker had trained me well, and by following his logic, I had never felt conflicted about the death we brought with us. It was natural, predator and prey, the circle of life. We did not cause suffering, and when it became prudent, we stopped killing unless necessary. And there were times that it was essential. But as times changed, not killing became the best way to survive. Leaving a trail of bodies would draw more attention and suspicion from an already superstitious species.

Unknowingly, I had been sitting lost in thought, and Jane had scooted closer to me and laid her head on my lap, her puffy cheek facing out. I was stroking her soft hair, and she had melted into me. I could sense her through the blood, and Jane felt utterly at ease and safe. She was glad of my presence. She felt protected.

Emotions. They were the ever-present trigger for vampires. The more in control we were, the better served we would be. I had always had issues with my rage, and more often than not, it had triggered some of my more impulsive actions. I got lost in a memory from many centuries before.

_“Rage is not the issue!” Godric had told me. His fury was quite evident. “It is how you act on it!”_

_I cowered before him. My anger got the better of me, and I beheaded a young and impudent but rather important vampire. Godric had been forced to clean up my mess. It had taken quite a lot of our wealth and some considerable political maneuvering. I was certain that we would not be allowed in the local Court for some time, centuries perhaps._

_“You must learn to control your response to your emotions,” he demanded. “Learn what triggers you, learn alternatives for how to respond.” He paced, and he blasted me with his disappointment down the bond enough that I felt I would start to cry. I worshipped Godric, and feeling how much I had failed him was far worse than any physical blow he could give me._

_“You cannot give in to the impulses of your emotions, or you will meet the true death,” he added, and then I felt his fear. True fear._

_“Yes, Godric,” I told him in my most respectful and reverent tone. “Yes, Godric.”_

I looked down at Jane, her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep. Was I letting my emotions dictate my actions? Was I not thinking clearly when it came to her? Two decades ago, Sylvie had allowed me to do the same - to not take the threat of the Authority seriously. I was so infatuated with her, and my ego so inflated I thought that I was untouchable. I had failed to protect her, and now I had claimed this confusing human, so prone to injury, so fucking breakable.

“Eric?” Jane's voice was barely whispered.

“Yes?” I asked her.

“Why did you come?” If I didn’t have vampire hearing, I doubted that I would have been able to make out her words.

Why was I here? I had claimed her, and now she was hurt. I was here to see her, to offer her my blood, which she refused. I could have left - I had fulfilled my obligation to her, even if I had done quite a terrible job at protecting her so far. Why was I still lingering…?

What did I want from her? I couldn’t figure her out. I just didn’t understand her. She didn’t want my blood, despite having already had it and knowing how it would help her pain and how it would make her feel. She was deeply aroused by me but didn’t to want have sex with me. She liked to be bitten but didn’t seem to like that she enjoyed it. She didn’t trust easily, yet she trusted me not to hurt her. She wanted an emotional connection but then accepted it readily when I backed away from the feelings forming between us.

I realized what I wanted then. I wanted to solve the puzzle that was Jane. To turn the sides of the Rubik’s cube until all the colors lined up. I wanted to get in her head and figure out why she swam naked in rivers and drew pictures of things that once were beautiful. I wanted her to give me her body freely and without reserve and to let me bring her the most incredible heights of pleasure. I wanted to know her. She was a mystery. She was my personal riddle. I was going to solve her.

“I’m here because you’re mine,” I whispered to her, my voice unusually loud in the darkness of the room, and I felt my claim on her deeply. But she didn’t hear me; she had already fallen asleep. Her breath was coming in out in even little puffs between her plump lips. I brushed her hair back and examined her face. Her face looked even younger in her sleep. Almost childlike, angelic. I did care for her. She made it easy to do. I remembered my Maker’s teachings, and it wasn’t the feeling that I needed to be wary of - it was how I acted on it that would matter.

I just needed to not let the past repeat itself.

I would proceed with my original plan to meet with her and drink from her, and slowly I would figure her out. I just couldn’t let it become obvious to anyone other than her that I cared for her. I wouldn’t let myself go farther than care. It was too painful to consider otherwise.

Having figured out my intentions with her, I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and left. I flew to the club and scoffed at the reactions of the patrons as I walked in. The vermin were happy to have me back in their presence. Pam had dressed Jessica, Bill’s progeny, in vamp tramp clothing that the young redhead seemed to enjoy. Pam informed me that she had also taught Jessica how to bite, which I thought was especially noteworthy. A first bite was such a crucial moment, like a baby’s first steps or words. A strong Maker would teach their progeny how to bite and how to feed. For Bill to pass up these moments with his first and only progeny… it was almost unthinkable. However, it was evident that he didn’t understand anything.

Idiot.

“Sheriff,” Chow said, indicating something was going on. We went back to my office. I closed the door and gestured for him to sit.

“I was checking in with all the local vamps, making sure they had the new mandates issued by the Queen.” I suppressed my eye roll. In a desperate ploy to add more to her personal wealth, Sophie-Ann increased the taxes on every vampire. “And there was one missing. Eddie Fournier.”

I had grave concerns about Mr. Fournier. He had paid to be turned, and his Maker had only taught him the most basic of skills. When he had stood before me, he had shaken and stammered, and I would not be surprised if he ended up staking himself.

“Missing?” I inquired.

“Taken, there were signs of a struggle.”

I thought about that. Drainers had become a real issue—parasitic cretins.

“I was digging into his history, and well. I thought you would want to see this.” He pulled out a laptop computer and turned the screen toward me. Emails between Mr. Fournier and another man. A V dealer. The lewd details of the emails had my eyebrows hiking in surprise. It always was the quiet ones. Mr. Fournier had been giving this man his blood in exchange for sex. It was clear his Maker had not informed him what so many blood ties to so many humans would do to him.

“Bring this man, Layfayette Reynolds, in. We’ll need to at least hold him for two weeks on the V dealing charges,” I ordered, as is mandated for our region. “Ask him about Mr.Fournier.”

“You got it, boss,” Chow said, and I could see he liked his new role as investigator and enforcer.

He exited the office.

At least I didn’t have to worry about being raided by the police anymore while holding a V dealer in the cells. The AVL lawyers had seen to that.

My next move was to call Godric. I wondered if he had any vampires missing in his area.

“Hello, Eric,” Godric said, and I could tell from his tone that he was pleased that I had called.

“What did I just get you out of?” I asked.

“A rather boring meeting.”

I grinned; Godric was terrible at meetings.

“I have a vampire in my Area that appears to have been taken.”

“Drainers?” he asked, and I heard his footsteps walking through his nest.

“It appears so. Is that a problem in Dallas?” I inquired, propping my feet on the desk.

“More so now than ever. We also have the Fellowship of the Sun here in Dallas, and they have been trying, so far failing, to capture a vampire for weeks.”

“The anti-vampire church? As if they could,” I scoffed.

“Do not underestimate them. They are fueled by hatred,” Godric warned me sternly. “And they are not wrong to fear us.”

I sighed. “Yes, Godric.”

“How is your human?” he inquired. He was always anxious when I had a claimed human. He had imparted to me a sense of honor about claiming. A duty to those that you consider your own. And I hadn’t had the best track record with the humans that I had claimed.

“Injured again. She refused my blood. I do not understand her at all,” I told Godric honestly. He was the only one that I would reveal my true intentions with.

“She refused?” he asked, surprised. “How severely was she injured?”

“A fracture to her mandible. She can barely speak.”

“How did you let this occur? She is under your protection!” Godric thundered, and I was thankful that I was not physically in his presence, feeling the strength of his power. “You should not claim if you cannot handle the responsibility.”

“It was daylight. She killed the man that hurt her. The one that had been strangling women,” I explained.

There was silence on the other end.

“How did she kill him? A gun?” Godric asked. Godric hated guns. He said it allowed one to separate themselves from the act—the simple pull of a trigger to end a life.

“A shovel,” I replied.

“A shovel,” he repeated blankly.

“I do not know the details. As I said, her jaw is broken.”

“She refused the blood, with a broken jaw?” he asked, tone perplexed, and I could tell he was struggling to believe it. “She already had your blood once as well…” He was coming to the same conclusions about her as I had. She was a mystery. “Eric, be wary of this human.”

Wary? Of Jane?

“What are you thinking, Godric?”

“I do not understand her motivation,” he replied.

“She’s an enigma.”

“You’re going to figure her out,” he said with a sigh, realizing my plan.

“I am.”

*****

Jane’s POV - _Tuesday, June 30th, 2009_

I woke the next day to find my jaw absolutely aching, and the only sign that Eric had truly been there was the words I wrote to him in my notebook. I shrugged off his visit. It didn’t mean anything. He was probably just being polite. I was going to keep my feelings for him to a minimum.

My pain medication said that I had to take it with food, so I went and made a smoothie in my blender—liquid diet for a few days, and then soft foods after that. I took my pain pill and put an ice pack on my face. I laid on the couch. There was a knock at my door.

I held the ice pack to my face, and I was surprised to see Arlene at my door. She had wilted flowers and mascara stains running down her face. I gestured her in.

“I’m so so sorry,” she sobbed to me, voice hoarse and rough from what was probably a long night of crying.

I nodded. I really didn't want to have to speak.

“I had no idea. None! Renè, he never…” She started crying, and I just hugged her. Renè had betrayed her trust, and it was heartbreaking to see.

“I have a fracture to my jaw, so I can't really speak,” I whispered into her hair.

She nodded.

“I… I understand. Why did you did what you had to do,” she told me.

My breath hitched. I killed her fiance. He was a murder and a liar, but I’m sure that she had loved him. She hadn’t known.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and we both cried together.

Finally, we broke apart, and we both laughed a little, if only at how uncomfortable we are.

“How are Coby and Lisa?” I asked through my teeth.

“They’re...they don’t understand.” She shook her head. “It’s gonna take time.”

I nodded. Jesus. Those poor kids.

“Well, despite all this, I still have to go to work,” she said, standing and wiping her face on her sleeve. “You come in, and we’ll make up something that you can drink through a straw,” she ordered, and I smiled weakly.

We hugged again, and then she left.

I laid back down on the couch, feeling exhausted from crying. I killed someone.

I _killed_ someone.

Why had Rene, or I guess based on what Sookie had told me, Drew, have so much hate in him? Couldn’t he have been helped? I didn’t think that anyone was beyond redemption. People just needed someone with the skills to help them detangle their demons. They needed mental health services. Sookie had explained to me that he had killed his own sister once she had become involved with vampires, and then he moved here and started doing the same thing, only with a false accent and a fake name. For him to go and kill his sister… He must have had some severe trauma. He was a damaged man, not a sociopath.

No, I didn’t believe that he deserved what I did to him. He could have gotten help, therapy, and counseling. It may have taken a long time. Maybe he had a chemical imbalance as well. It wasn’t like I thought he was innocent. But I didn’t believe in capital punishment, and I didn’t think that it made our society a better place just to lock people up.

Then I thought how relieved I felt, knowing that he wasn’t out there anymore, that I wasn’t going to be worried all the time, up every night, waiting for him to try to kill me. I was a little proud of how I defended myself and that I was able to save Sam and Sookie from also being killed. I still didn’t know if I had done the right thing.

Could killing someone ever really be considered the right thing to do?

It was too late now. The Sheriff already told me that I wouldn't even be brought before a judge on self-defense or manslaughter charges and that I had done the whole parish a great service. I felt nauseated, and I hoped that my smoothie would stay down.

I got out my sketchbook, and I flipped past the page that I used to chat with Eric last night. I opened a fresh blank one, and my hand started sketching without me even deciding. It was as if I knew I had to get it out of my head and on the page. I got caught in what Hungarian-American psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called _flow_. I lost all sense of time and was utterly lost in focus on my work. I didn’t even realize how much time had passed until someone was knocking at my door.

Startled, I got up and went to the door to find Terry there, holding a cup with a straw in it for me.

“I know you don’t drink milk, so I used a can of coconut milk,” he said, handing it to me as I let him in. “It’s a strawberry milkshake.”

We went into the living room, and I gestured for him to sit on the couch. And I moved my sketchbook away, but he had already seen what I had been drawing.

The shovel. A perfect replica of my murder weapon.

Terry looked at me with eyes that had seen too much, that had done too much.

“Hey,” he said. “I know how you feel.”

I knew if anyone would, it would be Terry.

“It kind of makes you feel like that’s all that you are. That you’re just the sum of that one thing, you did. But you've gotta know that you’re still capable of goodness and heartbreak and generosity of spirit. And if you can cling to that with everything you got, you're gonna be alright,” he told me kindly.

I felt myself tear up.

Terry hugged me, and we both cried. He had been through so much.

“You’re a good person Terry Bellefleur,” I sniffled at him when he pulled away.

“It takes one to know one,” he replied, and I smiled. “I’ll let you rest. Be careful with your pain meds. Only take ‘em if you have to,” he warned me. I wondered if that might have been a problem for people he knew.

I nodded vigorously, trying not to talk.

He left, and as I shut the door behind him, I was surprised to see that it was dark. I grabbed my phone only to see that it was already quite late and that I had a couple of text messages. One was from Terry, saying that he was bringing me the milkshake. I sipped it and found it sweet and delicious. The next text was from Eric.

**May I visit you tonight?**

That surprised me a bit. I was mostly under the impression that Eric was going to back away slowly, that he would simply fade away. That my connection to him would be like a poorly preserved ink poem. The letters would smudge, the sun would bleach the paper, and then the words our association would no longer be legible. They would have no meaning, no art. Just someone that I had once known.

I looked at the message again. Perhaps it was out of some sort of duty. I decided that I wanted to see Eric, if only to figure out where I stood with him.

**Yes.**

My reply was simple, and I decided that I wouldn’t add anything to it. I went upstairs to my room and showered and changed into my cotton panties and my nightgown. Looking in the mirror, my cheek was still swollen up, and I looked a little like a chipmunk trying to hide a nut. I went downstairs and finished my milkshake and then iced my cheek some more.

Eric breezed in, not bothering to knock.

“How are you?” he asked. “Your pain seems high.” I held up my bottle of pills and shook them at him. He took it from me and examined the label. “How many have you taken today?” he asked.

I held up one finger.

“How long ago?” He was his usual high-handed self.

“This morning,” I tried to grit out, and it hurt.

“You should take another one,” he ordered me, and he went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water for me and brought it back. He handed me the water and the pill. I hesitated, thinking about what Terry said. I didn’t want to be addicted to painkillers.

“I can feel your pain. You should take it,” he urged me as if he could read my thoughts. “It’s only been one day.”

That was true. I filled my mouth with water and pushed the pill between my lips to swallow it without choking on it.

“I’ve never seen a human take a pill that way. They usually put the pill in and then swallow the water,” he told me, and I saw him eyeing me strangely.

I shrugged.

Then Eric noticed the shovel drawing.

“This is what you used to kill the man?” he asked, and I saw a glimmer of pride on his face.

I nodded again.

“Can you tell me how?” he wondered softly, and he began to build a fire in the fireplace.

I regaled him on what happened in barely a whisper. I told Eric how I shoved the shovel up under Drew’s ribs as he had tried to strangle me. How I hadn’t even thought about it, I just reacted. How his blood had spilled over my face and how I saw his eyes go glassy and empty with death.

I felt so fuzzy that I also admitted to him my feelings about it.

“I liked it. I liked the feeling.” I looked at his icy eyes. What was it about those eyes? Like he had an entire ocean living inside him.

“He had been trying to kill you. It is reasonable to feel relieved that he is dead.”

He didn’t understand. I couldn’t explain it any better.

He and I both stared into the fire for a long time after that. I felt the painkillers working and went laid on the floor with him, nuzzling my face into him for the sheer sensation of it.

“What little kitten you’ve become,” he told me, amused.

“I’m not your pet,” I murmured. “You just feel nice.”

He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through me.

“Why are you here? Do you want my blood?” I whispered. I couldn’t help but be glad that he was here, even if I didn’t really understand why he was.

“Always,” he replied. “But I’ve decided that I’m going to figure you out.”

“Figure me out? Like I’m a riddle?” My question echoed around us.

“Exactly.” He looked at me then, and the intensity of his gaze made me feel like he was staring into my soul.

I looked away and into the fire. I could still feel his eyes on me; the depth of his stare felt like embers were burning beneath my skin.

“I’m an open book,” I whispered to the flames.

“Written in a language I can’t read, just yet.”

His voice had a lilt of an old-world accent just then, and I wondered how many languages he knew, how many he had forgotten.

“What will you do when you solve the riddle?” I asked. I wasn’t sure that I liked the idea that this was all just a game to him.

“I will take you to my Maker,” he said slowly, and I wondered if he hadn’t really thought through what he would do when he figured me out. “And I will see if I truly did.”

“Your Maker?” I questioned.

I saw Eric smile, a genuine real honest smile, one of love, and he had never looked more handsome to me. I had to look away from the sheer beauty of him. It made me repress my budding feelings to a deep recess of my mind.

“He made me vampire. He is the only one that I would trust to determine if I truly understand a creature as mysterious and beautiful as you.”

I scoffed.

“You don’t think you’re mysterious and beautiful?” he said with surprise, his expression that of wonder.

“I’m cute,” I told him. “Maybe pretty when I try. And I’m not a mystery - I’m very simple, plain Jane.”

He shook his head. “See, I have even more work to do. I don’t even understand how you can’t see that you’re absolutely stunning.”

“What will you do if your Maker says that you’ve succeeded in solving your riddle?” I asked him, still pressing to figure him out.

“It will take a lot for him to agree. My Maker is difficult to impress. You...remind me of him. Sometimes,” he said, and the way he said it made me feel like it was the highest compliment that he could pay me.

“In what way?” I inquired, trying to see what he saw. I wondered why he thought that I was such a mystery.

“My Maker, like you...He sees everything and everyone except for himself.”

“I see myself, I live in my own head, in my own world,” I admitted, more to myself than to him.

“He’s like that as well, all philosophy and thinking,” Eric said this as if it was a complaint.

“You didn’t answer my question. When you’ve solved me, then what will you do?”

He stared at me hard. “I don’t know. I would like to say that I hope we would be...friends still, but your life is very fleeting. I cannot promise you more than that.”

I swallowed. His answer was very honest, and I appreciated that.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay?” He furrowed his brow at me. “That’s all?”

“Yeah. What else would I say?” I was confused.

“Most humans would not be pleased with that answer. They would want a harder promise of a future. Perhaps they would even want to be turned.”

That hadn’t even occurred to me. I was just glad that he had even thought that he would stay on good terms with me, that he wouldn’t disappear on the page before me. I didn’t want our time to be written in invisible ink; I wanted him to remember me. I wanted him to tell some other person in a century or so how he had once had a friend named Jane.

“It didn’t even cross my mind,” I told him.

“Hmm..and you think you're not a mystery.”

I shrugged. “I’m just me.” I laid on my side and snuggled closer to him, and he put his arm around me. He felt so good pressed against me. My arousal soared as he stroked my side, and I knew he could feel it because he continued to repeat the movement, his large hand skimming from my shoulder down my waist and stopping at my hip only to start again.

“You like it when I touch you.” His voice was husky against the shell of my ear. “Tell me why.”

“It feels nice,” I replied. “I like the feel of your large hand on my body.”

“Hmm..” He rumbled, his hand stopping at my hip and threatening to go lower toward my backside. I didn't stop him. He cupped the fleshy skin of my buttock in his hand and groaned into my shoulder. I arched back into his hand, pressing myself against him more firmly. It felt taboo somehow. “Gods, this ass,” he growled and kneaded my flesh. “I want to bite it.” I felt myself clench at the idea, the hot spark of arousal making me tremble against him. “You like that idea. A lot,” he said, pleased.

“It’s...very arousing.” My throat felt so dry, and my words escaped through my barely opened lips.

“Would you let me if I asked?” he whispered back, and I shook my head. “Of course not,” he sighed and continued to palm my skin. “Why won’t you let yourself take what you want?”

“This is what I want — lying here in front of the fire, letting you touch me and whisper naughty things in my ear. This is exactly what I want,” I told him my pain meds made me brave, and he groaned again.

“You confound me, woman,” he said, and he took his hand off of my backside and trailed it up the curve up my waist and hip. He lingered on my ribs, and I could tell he wanted to cup my breast now. “Do you want me to touch you here?” he asked, his hand almost skimming my breast.

“Oh…” I breathed in. “Yes, please,” I said, and he lifted my breast in his hand, only the thin fabric of my nightgown separating his cool hand from my soft, warm flesh. He stroked at my nipple, where it turned to stone under the fabric. It felt wonderful; the motion shooting jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

“You’re so sensitive. I could probably make you come from just touching your breasts,” he said, and his breath felt hot against my ear. I thought of how I came from just the pressure on my nipple and the bite of my vampire, and I nodded against him. I heard him say something with the tone of profanity in his ancient language. “May I try it? I want to see you come undone,” he asked me, and as I was considering it his phone rang.

Eric swore and answered it. “This better be fucking important!” he snarled and got up from the floor. He listened for a moment and then swore again. “Yes. I’m leaving now,” he said, and he hung up.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, still barely opening my lips.

“Politics. I have to prepare for a visit from the Queen,” he said he offered me a hand up.

“The Queen of England?” I asked as he pulled me to my feet, and he laughed.

“The Vampire Queen of Louisiana,” he explained kindly. “She’s very annoying and important.”

I nodded. “So, I won’t see you tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Most likely not. She is very time-consuming.”

“Would you like to drink from me?” I asked, wondering if he needed my blood.

His eyes went dark. “I would, but I cannot,” he replied. “Your blood is laced with painkillers, and I will need a clear head tonight.”

That was interesting. I hadn't realized that vampires would be impacted by what was in the blood. So many people took all kinds of drugs these days, prescription and otherwise. It made me appreciate how hard it must be for him.

“I can see you're curious about that, and I will tell you more next time, but I must leave.” He turned. “A kiss, perhaps, before I go?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to run away again,” I told him. “I can’t help what I feel.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “You’ve hooked me too hard with your enigma and sweet curves.”

I rolled my eyes at him. What a deflection if I ever heard one.

“Careful of my jaw,” I murmured, and he pressed his lips to mine lightly, but it sent shudders all the way down my spine.

He took a deep breath. “Your mouth is addictive,” he told me, those blue eyes feeling like a knife pinning me in place. “Every time I kiss you, I want to do it again.”

“I like it far too much as well,” I said softly. He turned to leave, and I stopped him by grabbing his hand. “Eric...when will you be done with meetings tonight?” I asked, trying not to move my mouth too much.

“Oh, love. I have left you wanting, haven’t I? I should be done by four, I’ll text you, and you can rub yourself in those little light circles all you want,” he told me seductively.

I blushed, and Eric kissed the heat of my cheeks, muttering something that sounded like, “Absolutely maddening,” before he flew off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> For those of you that are hankering for more Godric, please be patient! We will get there, I promise. 🙂


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here we are with an update, and right on schedule. I will also be re-posting Chapter 10 with some revisions that FumiyoSenka made. No changes to the plot, but just fixing some grammatical problems! She rocks!

Chap 11

Eric’s POV - _Wednesday, July 1st, 2009_

Queen Sophie-Ann was sitting on my throne, and I was trying very hard not to kill her. I could do so easily, I mused, and then I had to remember that I would be forced to rule Louisiana if I killed her. That was something I absolutely did not want to do. The paperwork, the responsibility, the death threats, the Authority constantly breathing down my neck...not to mention that I would have to live in New Orleans or try to move the entire court.

No, best to let her ramble on. She wiped invisible dust off her ridiculous pure white suit and shook her red curls as she elaborated on her situation’s unfairness. The Queen’s monetary woes were nothing new, and she was loathed by her subjects for her outrageous taxing of both public and private wealth. Well, the wealth that she knew about anyway. I had moved a lot of my personal holdings to Godric’s name so that I could shield the majority of my fortune from her.

She was once again demanding that we increase profits. I had shown her how well Fangtasia was doing and how our new marketing schemes, including Pam’s favorite ‘ladies night,’ generated more revenue. I even explained to her our plan to lure in even more clients for our _Red, White, and Blood Fourth of July Bash,_ but it was never good enough for petulantly childish Sophie-Ann. I looked at the sketch that Jane had drawn of me, now framed and hung above the bar. Perhaps I could ask her to do some more, and we could have prints made and add them to the gift shop area. Her work was too classic and realistic; it didn’t fit with the over-top tawdriness. I wondered if Jane would be offended by the idea of caricatures.

“So see, to pay these ridiculous back taxes and also have my day room completed, I need more money!” The Queen yelled, finally ending her tirade, and I nodded.

“I understand, your Majesty. Perhaps we can think of more business ventures that are profitable to raise additional funds,” I suggested, thinking of the art.

She ruminated on this, and I saw her eyes glittering greedily. Godric wouldn’t be able to stand her. He had no patience for fools, but his unwillingness to ascend to the role of a monarch tempered his behavior, as it did mine. Luckily, Godric’s Queen was wise enough never to pester Godric with much and was just pleased to have one of the oldest and strongest vampires running one of the country’s most difficult cities. After all, the vampires of Dallas embraced the wild west culture, and he constantly had to put underlings in their place. The humans were just as bad, inciting violence against vampires at every turn.

“That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Northman. We’ll think about it and come up with a lucrative concept, I’m sure,” The Queen stated and finally got her ass off of my throne.

“It was a pleasure to host you, my Queen,” I lied. “Did you enjoy your hunt?” She had spent quite some time in the back with a young woman she had found.

“Quite.” She paused and turned her head at me curiously. “I heard that you claimed a human, and I thought it must be a rumor. Eric Northman does not keep pets.”

I wondered where she had heard this rumor, and I knew then that I most certainly had a spy. Bill Compton sprang to mind immediately.

“I have claimed a human. She’s most amusing and delicious,” I said, knowing it would be pointless to deny it.

“My, my, that is interesting,” the Queen said idly, and she moved toward the exit. “I’ll come to call in a couple of weeks, have some ideas for me then,” she demanded, and then she was gone.

I sank into my chair and reeked of her and her expensive cloying perfume. I would need to get it professionally cleaned. I sighed and checked my watch; it was already quite late. I checked the receipts for the night and then locked down the bar. I had less than an hour before dawn, and I did not want to get stuck in my emergency coffin in the back. I listened at the door of the basement. The humans that I had in the holding cells were all asleep. I did not like having so many, four now, but one was the V dealer that may have had something to do with Eddie Fournier’s disappearance. Two were suspected drainers, and I was still waiting to hear from the Authority what they wanted me to do with them. The last one was a pet that had staked a vampire during his day rest. It seemed as if there was some dissent amongst the members of the Authority with what to do with this human pet, and in the meantime, she was stuck in my cells. It wasn’t pleasant, but Chow seemed to get a kick out of pushing their meals through slats of the bars.

My flight home was quick, and I was surprised to see Pam still up. Her latest pet, Dana, was curled on the couch next to her, and they were watching a fashion show.

“Pam,” I greeted her.

“How was the Queen?” Pam asked idly, playing with Dana’s hair.

“As expected, where’s Red?”

An annoyed expression crossed my childe’s face. “She dropped unprovoked fang at Dana, so I locked her in a coffin in the spare room.”

“She lacks control. Bill starting her on Tru Blood certainly didn’t do her any favors.” I looked at the brunette lying in Pam’s lap. “Is she alright?”

“I’m fine. Pam here made sure of that,” Dana said with obvious innuendo.

“Very well. I will discipline Jessica more tomorrow,” I said, and Pam grinned, pleased that Jessica would be punished for her misbehavior. “I’m going to warm a blood and go to ground.”

Pam looked at me strangely again. I didn’t usually have so much bagged blood. My fangs were achy, I wanted to sink them into something warm, preferably Jane’s quivering thigh, but I hadn’t even had time to consider it tonight. I found a pouch of AB negative and rejoiced internally. It wouldn’t be Jane, but it would certainly help.

When my bagged blood was warm, I went down to my room and laid on my bed. I felt out to my blood in Jane, and I was surprised to find her awake. I glanced at the time; it was nearly dawn. What was she doing still awake? She felt content and relaxed. I decided to call her to see if she would answer.

“Hello,” her soft voice answered. I heard a splashing sound.

“What are you doing?” I asked, hoping that she was not swimming nude outside by herself again.

“I’m in the bath,” she sighed. “I have an amazing huge bathtub.”

Jane in the bath. That was quite an image.

“You’re up quite late,” I stated.

“I’ve been sleeping in too late. It’s a bad cycle,” she murmured, and I could tell she wasn’t opening her mouth much. “What are you doing?”

“I’m drinking a blood in bed. It’s close to dawn.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Is it good?” she asked, and it was such a funny question from her. Gods, she was weird. I loved it.

“It’s AB negative, so that helps,” I replied

“Is that your favorite type?” she wondered.

“Yes. Whoever this was from doesn’t eat as well as you, and they’re on some sort of hormonal birth control,” I explained.

“I don’t take any medications, and I take B 12 vitamins,” she said. “I only took half a pain pill this morning and the other half this evening.”

“I knew that you didn’t take any medications, and it’s wise to take B12 vitamins. You may consider an iron supplement. I think you are too concerned about the painkillers. You don’t have an addictive personality.”

I heard the water splash again. “I just want to be done taking them.”

“Why?” I inquired, trying not to focus on the fact that she was nude and speaking with me.

“There’s a lot of reasons.”

“Other than the unlikely possibility of you becoming a drug addict, why else?”

She mumbled something.

“Speak up, darling,” I told her.

“I want you to feed from me again. I miss your bite,” she admitted. I felt her embarrassment through the blood.

Ah. She thought I wouldn’t feed from her with the painkillers in her system. She wanted my bite. Gods...that was sexy to hear.

“You do, do you? You miss my fangs against your thigh?” I asked and felt her arousal climb. “You want me to sink them into you? To pull your delicious blood into me?”

“Oh...yes,” she said and could almost hear her heartbeat pounding through the phone.

“You can still take the painkillers, and I can feed from you. It would just have to be here at the nest where it is secure,” I went on. “It wouldn’t be wise for me to fly or drive back to Shreveport with it in my system, and I’m not going to stay in the poorly concealed hole that your ancestor was using. It was a wonder no one came and staked him in his day rest.”

“The drugs would affect you the same way they would a human?” she inquired, and curiosity laced her voice.

“Similarly, other types of drugs and alcohol as well. It is particularly dangerous for humans to be fed from when they are very intoxicated as alcohol thins their blood, and the more the vampire drinks from them, the less control they have. It is one of the many reasons feeding is forbidden on the premises at Fangtasia.” I finished the donor blood and placed the bag in my biohazard trash can.

“I imagine some vampires seek that out,” she guessed correctly.

“Vampires that consume blood laced with illicit substances often perish. Too high to defend themselves, too slow, or so out of it, they meet the sun. It is a hazardous recreation.” Godric had forbidden me when I was young from having anything more than alcohol-laced blood, and even then, he was still wary. He had long ago released any such commands on me, but the message was clear.

“That makes sense,” she yawned. I heard her pull the plug on the drain. “I’m going to go to bed.”

“May I visit you tomorrow?” I asked. “I can come early. I’m not due at Fangtasia until late evening.”

“That should be fine. All I’m doing tomorrow is going fishing with my friend Terry, although I don’t plan to fish. I plan to draw,” she explained. Terry must be the chef, the one that had seen her naked body. I was already suspicious of him.

“Very well. I will come at dark to see you then.”

I heard her smile through the phone, and a little wave of warmth came through the blood.

“Goodnight, Eric,” she said softly.

“Sweet dreams,” I replied, and then we hung up.

I thought about her wanting my bite. I easily spun a fantasy of having her here, feeding from her, hearing her beg for my fangs. Her begging for more...

Perhaps I could convince her to spend her evening with me, come with me to Fangtasia tomorrow. I would have to close, but then we could come back to the nest. I texted my day man to get some more of her organic vegan food, particularly soft things for her healing jaw. He would leave them at the lockbox by the gate. I thought of what I would want most to taste in Jane’s clean blood. I grinned to myself, feeling like a human, ordering dinner.

Yes, yes, the mystery that was Jane was the perfect entertainment.

Before the sun pushed me under, my last thought was that perhaps I didn’t truly want to solve her at all.

That maybe, some things were just meant to be mysteries.

*****

Jane’s POV - _Thursday, July 2nd & Friday, July 3rd, 2009_

It was early evening, the sky was turning a beautiful burnt orange color around us, and Terry and I were in his boat. He had his line in the water, and I had my sketchbook out. Terry had already caught several fish and had thrown them all back out of respect for me. I had told him it wasn’t necessary, but he had insisted. I had been working on a sketch of him without his knowledge, and it made me smile. My sweet friend - he had been through a lot, and I could tell that people didn’t quite get him, but I did.

Terry wanted peace. He wanted people just to accept him, and he didn’t want to feel pressured or stressed. He and I were alike that way, and we could sit comfortably in silence for a long time.

“I got Big John to make vegetable soup,” he told me quietly. “Let’s stop and get you a big container of it to take home for dinner.”

I nodded, and he started packing up his fishing equipment, and I put my notebook away. I didn’t know how Terry would feel about me sketching him. He was a pretty modest person, and I think it would make him feel uncomfortable. He steered the boat through the water slowly, and I appreciated how he did that. We didn’t disturb any of the animals that lived there, and it was like we were a big gator ourselves moving slowly through the water. When we reached the dock, he helped me out and then did the complicated work of hooking the boat up to his truck. He did it speedily with ease, and I hopped in the passenger seat.

Merlotte’s was packed when we pulled in, and I was glad we weren’t going to stay. When we walked in, everyone stopped talking, and then seconds later, whispers erupted everywhere. I only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying.

“She’s the one that killed-” I heard a woman whisper.

“I heard it was with a shovel…” The low voice of a man.

“Looks too sweet to be dangerous,” a young man told his friend.

Terry put his hand on my shoulder to comfort me, and the noise ratcheted higher.

“Hey, Sam. Can we get a container of that veggie soup for Jane to go?” Terry asked him.

Sam looked at me, and I could see a bit of fear in his eyes. Because I killed a man with a shovel or because I knew he could turn into a dog?

“Sure thing. I’ll put that in now,” he called out as he wrote it on a ticket. “We’re short-staffed. Sookie’s out still, no Amy. I really should have four waitresses and a hostess,” he explained.

I thought about how I needed a summer job. I wondered if I should apply here and discarded the idea quickly. I should probably talk like a normal person before I start trying to find a job.

“Hey, wasn’t Layfette supposed to be workin’ tonight?” Terry asked, looking into the kitchen.

“Yeah, he didn’t show. I called and everything. Big John is pullin’ a double.”

“Huh,” Terry said, his brow wrinkled in concern.

Arlene came out and handed me my soup, and I went to pay, but Sam insisted it was on the house.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

The noise, which had calmed down from a roar to a background murmur while we waited, ticked up a notch when Sam gave me the soup on the house. Terry put his hand back on my shoulder and steered me out, and the noise rose even higher.

“Don’t listen to people. They won’t get it,” Terry told me, his jaw tight with anger.

I nodded at him, unsure what to think about my newfound infamy.

Terry drove me home, the windows of the truck rolled down. Darkness had fallen, and I looked out into the navy blue velvety night, the cooling breeze blowing across my skin. I closed my eyes, and I just felt the moment. I loved the country. I belonged here. I never realized how oppressive the city had felt until I was out here. I opened my eyes when Terry pulled up my gravel driveway, and he looked over at me with his strange intensity.

“You did what you had to do. Those folks, the ones that are judgin’ you, they ain’t ever had to live through that kind of thing before,” he said this with the confidence of a person who had done hard things.

“I.. don’t feel like I even made a choice, it just.. It all happened so fast,” I stated softly and swallowed.

He stared out the front windshield for a moment.

“Be glad you didn’t have to choose.”

Terry was haunted by the things he had seen and done, and he lived his life with those ghosts right on the periphery of his mind. I pulled his large calloused hand into mine, and we sat in the truck awhile longer. He had the hands of a man who worked hard and a healed shiny burn from working in a kitchen. I had never felt more grateful to have made a friend. Our hands clasped together made me feel strong and brave in a way that I knew I wouldn’t have been able to do alone.

Terry slid his hand away from mine and smiled at me, and I smiled back.

“Goodnight, Jane.”

I got out of the truck and waved goodbye to Terry.

“Night,” I whispered to him, and he drove away. I went inside and attacked my soup. I got about halfway through and decided to take a pain pill. I had tried not to take one at all, but I wasn’t going to make it. As I pushed the pill into my water-filled mouth, Eric walked through the door.

“Good,” Eric said when he saw I was taking the pill. “I was going to insist.” Then he came and sniffed my arm and my hand where Terry had touched me. Eric looked as if he would growl, his eyes narrowed. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his possessive vampire behavior.

“Sorry. I haven’t had time to shower yet,” I whispered to him. “I was trying to eat.”

Eric looked at me and then at the food.

“Feed first,” he said, and I felt like it was hard for him. He paced the entire time, and I didn’t see him breathe at all. I finished my soup, and I went quickly upstairs and jumped in the shower, and washed with the harsh green soap. I found that if I used my rosehip lotion after, it wasn’t so stripping.

I put on a comfy cotton dress and went downstairs to find Eric looking at my sketchbook, and my heart nearly stopped.

Eric was just about to turn the page and see my sketch of my silver-eyed vampire friend. If he nearly growled at me when merely Terry touched my shoulder, I had no idea how he would react to my mysterious vampire. It felt like he was scouring through my diary; I was furious and intensely offended.

“This is private!” I hissed at him, and he recoiled. I snatched my sketchbook from his hands immediately.

A strange moment passed between us, and then Eric kneeled before me. He could feel my extreme upset through the blood! I had never seen him look so docile.

“I apologize. I did not think. I did not know. I did not mean to breach your trust.” His apology was so sincere, and I couldn’t stay angry in the face of his genuine apology. Eric hadn’t meant to. He didn’t realize it was the equivalent of a diary for me.

“I forgive you,” I said softly. “It’s just very personal.”

“Can I ask about one?” he asked softly, standing back up and pointing to one of the already opened pages. “This one here.” It was the half-finished one of him. It was his chin and face shape.

“I started sketching you again after you asked me to be yours. I...didn’t realize I was doing it.”

He nodded, and that smirk of his curled the corners of his lips. I shook my head at him; so arrogant.

“The most recent sketch is your...friend,” he stated as if he doubted that Terry just wanted to be my friend.

“I always sketch my friends,” I replied. “Or people I find interesting.”

He nodded. Eric came and sniffed me, and I relaxed against him. I was feeling the pain pill working, and I felt a little boneless. Noticing this, he scooped me up and held me in his lap on the couch. He nuzzled my neck, and I felt like he was scenting me again.

“Would you like to come with me tonight? I have to put in some time at the club, and then we could go back to the nest?” he inquired, and I looked up at him from my position in his lap.

“Is this so you can bite me?” I asked and unconsciously licked my lips.

“Yes, and I enjoy your company.”

I thought about it. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go. I wouldn’t be able to come back until the following evening, but that would be okay.

“I need to pack a bag,” I said. Eric grinned, visibly pleased that I had agreed to come with him. I tried to get up, but he insisted on carrying me. He zipped me into my room and placed me on the bed.

“Where are your bags?” Eric asked, and I pointed to the closet.

“You only have three bags?” he asked in a tone of disbelief, holding up the backpack I used for college, my purse, and my big art teacher's supply bag.

“Yes, I’ll just use my backpack,” I stated firmly and pointed to it.

He dumped my other two bags on the floor, the contents of my purse spilling out. He scooped up the miscellaneous things that had spilled and put them on the bed next to me so I could sort them out properly.

“Pam has many, many bags,” he told me. “And shoes.”

Eric went back to look in my closet. I didn’t like to go shoe shopping. I had small wide feet, which made it difficult. “You don’t have many shoes either.”

I shrugged, pulling all the things out of my purse - my lotion, lip balm, my hammer necklace, a bunch of old receipts, and a random broken hairband.

“What shall I pack first?” Eric asked eagerly like this was an adventure for him. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Eric rifling through my things.

“Pajama shirt.” I pointed to the drawer as I packed lotion and lip balm back into my purse. Eric opened it up and dug through until he found a soft, worn one with a pun on it that I loved.

“ _Panda_ monium,” he sounded out. Eric laughed at the graphic of the little pandas running wild on the front, he folded that into the bag. It was clear to me that he liked puns, and I understood that naming the club Fangtasia was not just for the tourists.

“What now?” He turned back to me.

“Clothes for tomorrow. It’s going to be warm again.” As he went to my closet, I put my hammer necklace in my jewelry box and then sat back down on my bed. Eric emerged from the closet with a white cotton a-line dress and another flower-printed one.

“Put in both, and I’ll pick tomorrow,” I directed, as he folded them into the bag with enthusiasm.

I went to stand to get my panties and bra, but he looked so disappointed. I reluctantly sat back down.

“Underthings,” I stated, and blushed as I pointed to the top drawer of my dresser. Eric’s eyes went dark, and he opened the drawer. He dug through and pulled out my white cotton panties and put them in the backpack, before also selecting a pair of pink panties that had tiny red hearts printed all over them throwing in another pair that had polka dots on them. Lastly, he held up my white bra, and I nodded.

“You don’t have any lace or frills,” he commented. “Everything is very...sweet.”

“It’s comfortable. I don’t have anyone to impress,” I explained.

He made a rumbly sound that I didn’t understand.

“You bought me a hairbrush and toothbrush and toothpaste already and my shampoo and conditioner, so I don’t think I need to bring anything else.”

“Your pain medication,” he reminded me, and we went downstairs. Eric put the bottle in my backpack. I made sure to throw in my sketch pad and pencils, along with the book I was reading and my wallet and cellphone.

“Ready, fair maiden?” Eric asked roguishly. I was sure he had ravished quite a few fair maidens in his day.

I nodded, and we went outside. I pulled the backpack on, and Eric wrapped his arms around me. Then we were flying. I closed my eyes, the pain medication making me feel a little woozy. I thought about how strange it was that I was getting used to flying as a mode of transportation. Eric seemed lost in thought, and we didn’t chat. I just enjoyed the feeling and the night air, and all too soon, we were at Fangtasia.

Eric took me in the back door to the club, and I put my backpack in his office. He asked me to stay there for a moment while he checked some things and I didn’t mind. I stood around a moment or two, examining what was on Eric's bookcase; I was startled when the door opened. Pam and a young redhead vampire I had never met entered.

“Who’s this? Can we eat her? She smells awesome!” The redhead was just a teenager when she was turned; she couldn’t be more than twenty. Her tone was exactly what I would have expected from a teenager too.

“Yeah, just try saying something like that in front of Eric. He might finally send you back to your Maker,” Pam threatened.

“Ugh. As if,” the new vampire replied in a very bratty way.

“Inventory,” Pam handed the redhead a clipboard. “That’s your job tonight. If you do it well, Eric might let you feed. If you don’t, we’ll see if he gives you a bag of donor blood,” Pam said with her typical smirk.

“What? You still have to do boring stuff as a vampire!? Not fair!” the redhead griped. Then Eric appeared and looked at the young vampire with narrowed eyes.

“Jessica,” he snapped, and she looked at him.

“Yes,” she said with an attitude.

“This is Jane. She is mine,” he stated clearly. “Have you started the inventory?”

“I’m starting now,” she said, still snotty, and I wondered how much longer Eric would stand for it. He gestured for me to follow him, and I did.

“Who was that?” I asked him.

“Bill’s progeny. She was turned against her will. Bill’s punishment for killing Longshadow was to create a new vampire to replace him,” he told me as he led me up the raised dais.

“Why is she here? If she’s Bill’s progeny?”

“I have taken her in to have something over Bill. I don’t trust him, and I don’t understand why he is here in my area,” he said, and he pulled me into his lap.

“Oh,” I said as I thought about that. In my opinion, the more Eric had over Bill, the better. Eric’s hands wandered from my waist to the skin of my thigh, and I felt suddenly aware of my body.

“Mmm…” he said in response to feeling me through the blood. Pam came up to us and told Eric some things in Swedish.

Eric responded in Swedish. I sat on his lap, and people watched. I saw a lot of goth eyes on me that were not pleased. I watched the vampires, and they looked at Eric with respect and fear, and maybe a hint of surprise. Maybe because he had me on his lap?

“I’m going to have a vampire up here in a bit,” Eric leaned in and told me. I looked back at his face, and I could tell he wasn't pleased about this. I took a deep breath, and he ran a soothing hand down my arm. I scanned the crowd, and could immediately tell which vampire was the one that Eric was about to have come over.

The vampire walked with an air of disdain. His eyes took in the decor and the tawdry dancers with derision. Eric indicated for him to come forward, and the vampire sat smoothly in the chair next to us. He had a long pinched face and a beak-like nose. His hair was black and lustrous, pulled back at the nape of his neck. His olive skin tone had a pallor that indicated vampire. He reminded me of a dangerous crow.

“Northman, I’m surprised to see the rumors are true. You have claimed a human.” He narrowed his beady eyes at me.

“Hmm...I have.” Eric trailed his finger along my cheek, and I remembered him doing that before in front of Malcolm and his nest. It must be some sort of claiming gesture.

“Well, I must say, I understand why she seems...delicious.” I could see this new vampire lean in to smell me, his eyes lingering inappropriately on my breasts.

“Why are you here, Tessaro?” Eric asked, cutting to the chase and resting his fingers on my neck territorially.

“A vampire contacted me for my skill set, he wanted to keep our arrangement secret, but I knew better than to double-cross you in your area,” Tessaro replied, steepling his fingers.

“The vampire?” Eric asked.

“Bill Compton,” Tessaro said, and Eric’s hand on my waist tightened subtly.

“What kind did he request, and whom did he indicate would be the recipient?” Eric asked in a bored tone as if it wasn’t too impressive.

“A waitress of all things, and a rather sordid story including himself in a prominent role,” Tessaro chuckled.

Eric smiled like this was amusing. “Some people just can’t do things the old fashion way anymore, can they?”

“Not everyone is gifted with your charm. So, shall I proceed or beg off? The choice is yours, Sheriff, and I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.” Tessaro’s eyes wandered to my legs, and I wished I was wearing pants instead of my little floral sundress.

“Don’t take the job. I’ll compensate you for the loss of funds, and if you double-cross me, it will make Venice look like a festa,” Eric told him casually. But Tessaro stiffened, the threat apparently received loud and clear.

“Very well, Sheriff,” he simpered and stood. “I’m happy to create something for your human, as a gift, free of charge.”

Eric narrowed his eyes darkly. “That will not be necessary,” Eric said this with so much authority and power, that a vampire in the crowd dropped their Tru Blood bottle, and it smashed to the floor.

Tessaro’s eyes widened, and he fled.

The mess was cleaned up, and the revelry continued.

“I suppose you’ll explain that to me later?” I asked Eric softly.

“Most definitely. You need to be wary of him,” Eric replied, and I felt him nuzzling my neck. I turned to look at him, and suddenly I felt that his fangs were down, and I had accidentally pressed them right against the skin of my neck with my sudden movement. He and I both groaned, and he withdrew.

“You test my very limits,” he growled at me, his hands tight on my waist.

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t realize that your fangs were down.”

“That could have been very bad. If my fangs were fully extended, they would have cut you. I would have been seconds away from publicly violating the most prominent rule of my club: no feeding on the premises.”

I swallowed.

“I’ll be more careful,” I said softly.

The crowd started to thin out as the night wound down. I draped myself across Eric, my head fuzzy from my medication, and he was texting on his phone. Pam came up and spoke with Eric in Swedish, and I saw her eyes look at me a few times and then nod. Ginger, the blonde that I recognized from being interviewed, said that it was the last call, and the place cleared out.

“Time to go, kitten,” Eric said, and I stood. We walked to the back. He asked me to wait, and I saw him go through a key-coded door. He returned moments later, displeased. I grabbed my backpack, and then he flew me to his house. I looked away when he entered the key code. I didn’t want to know what the code was. I assumed the less I knew, the better. He set me down in the living space, and Pam and Jessica were on the couch watching the massive TV.

“Red, did you do all the inventory?” Eric asked her, and she looked up from the romantic comedy.

“Yes, and it sucked,” she replied. “I wanna work out in the bar!”

“You could not even control yourself around Pam’s claimed human! Do you think I would let you out in the bar where there are humans everywhere? You must work on your control,” he told her. “Drink a bagged blood and go to ground,” he ordered, and she marched like a stubborn child into the kitchen.

Eric led me down to his room, and he stripped down to his boxers and laid on the bed. I couldn’t help but just admire him for a moment. His broad shoulders and his hard abs, my mouth felt dry and I looked away from his form.

“Newborns are a lot of work, and she is especially trying,” he told me with a sigh. “I do not have a Maker’s command over her, so it is even more difficult.”

“A Maker’s command? What does that mean?” I asked as I set my backpack down and toed off my shoes.

“Makers can issue commands to their Progeny, and they must be obeyed. Physically, the Progeny is unable to not comply without feeling severe illness,” he explained.

I gulped. The implications of that were readily apparent to me. “That’s...terrifying.”

“It can be yes. It can also be used to help newborns, to control their impulses.”

I nodded. That made sense. “Who was that vampire that you had to talk to, the one that was going to make something for Bill to use on Sookie?”

Eric’s eyes grew dark, and he pulled me close to him on the bed, curling around me protectively. He sniffed me before he explained. “Tessaro is a dream weaver. He can create powerful hyper-realistic compelling dreams and send them to humans as long as he has a bit of their blood. It is a rare and dangerous talent.”

“Why would Bill want to send Sookie a dream?” I asked. “Doesn’t she already dream about him if she’s had his blood?”

“I do not understand what his purpose is with her,” Eric told me with a tone of frustration, rolling onto his back. “Sending a dream like the ones Tessaro can weave means that Bill is manipulating her. To what purpose, I do not know.”

“Bill walked out into the sun to try to save her from the strangler. He was burnt to a crisp, and they threw him in a grave. He survived, though,” I explained to him what I had seen. “Why would he do that?”

Eric was thoughtful. “He’s an idiot, with a death wish.”

“Maybe he loves her?” I suggested. “I mean in some sort of sick way if he’s manipulating her.”

“Perhaps, but then it’s not love, is it? It's an obsession,” he replied. “What about her has him going to these lengths?” he wondered out loud.

“Her telepathy?” I guessed. “I mean, that seems pretty rare.”

He nodded. “Her personality is rather irritating, and her blood smells…” He made a disgusted sound.

“That bad?” I laughed a little.

“Sickeningly sweet, worse than how cotton candy smells,” he said with a grimace.

“You don’t like sweet flavor?” I asked.

He looked at me then. “Hmmm...a hint like when you’ve eaten a lot of fruit is delicious, but no not like what I smelled on her, although my senses are more sensitive, it comes with age.”

“So maybe Bill is super into her weird sugar blood?”

“It is possible. Enough talk of Bill and the telepath,” he said, and he rolled toward me. “Let’s talk of your blood some more.”

I giggled. “Okay. How do I taste?”

He thought for a moment, and I could tell he liked this question, that it was fun for him.

“You taste fresh, clean, smooth...and AB negative is not common, so your blood is rare as well.” He paused. “There’s an unusual earthiness to your blood. It’s very pure. Delicious. Your scent is familiar to me, but I can’t place it.”

“That’s interesting...you tasted otherworldly. Wondrous. Like an icy cold north sea,” I said.

He bolted upright, alarmed.

“What? Was that offensive?” I asked, sitting up slowly.

“No...I just...I had no idea you would be able to taste that,” he said slowly and laid back down. “I was turned near the North Sea, and it is the dominant tone of my scent. What other vampires smell when they scent me.”

I had shocked him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I just felt it when I drank from you,” I said.

“That’s strange,” he replied. “You felt it?” he asked.

“I guess, or I tasted it?” I didn’t know. I shrugged.

He watched me a little longer, and I felt like he was working on what he perceived as ‘my puzzle.’

I yawned.

“You feel a little tired,” he stated. He must be feeling me from his blood in me.

“A bit. It’s late,” I said, and I looked at the smooth expanse of Eric’s chest. It was fantastic.

“May I feed from you?” he asked, and I looked into his icy eyes.

“Okay,” I agreed. I moved myself to the middle of the bed, and Eric positioned himself in front of me.

“Lift your dress,” he said in his usual ordering tone, and I did. I moved my leg out, and he looked at my cotton panties. “I like that only I see these.” He grinned possessively.

“You and everyone else at the laundromat,” I replied, thinking about my pile of laundry.

He looked disgruntled by that but then brought his face to sniff me and made a delighted sound at my scent. The swirling feeling of his breath always felt so lovely. He began to lick my other thigh, the one that didn’t have a bite yet. I was excited at the prospect, and I was sure he felt it. I was trembling a little, shaking in anticipation. His fangs snicked out, and I watched them more closely this time. They looked very long, very sharp, and they dripped with something. He brought them back up a little, so they looked less lethal, and he brushed them against my skin. He continued to tease me until I was aching. I wanted it so badly.

“Eric...please,” I finally begged.

“Please, what?” he asked with a fangy smile.

“Please bite me,” I mewled.

“All you have to do is ask, and I will give it to you,” Eric purred and sank his fangs into my fresh thigh, and I wailed in pleasure. It was so much, too much.

He removed them, and I could think again, except now he was pulling my blood into his mouth, drinking from me, and it felt marvelous. I couldn’t help but watch how he did it, sucking at my flesh. It was intensely erotic. I didn’t know if it was the painkillers or if I was just getting bolder, but I moved my hand down and rubbed myself in time with his pulls, and I careened dangerously close to the edge.

I didn’t even have to ask him. He knew what I wanted now. He dropped his fangs, made glorious eye contact with me, and then pressed his fangs into me, and I came. I could barely hear the foreign words that Eric groaned with a tone of praise. I was drifting and drifting. I was in the sea.

My eyes opened, and I looked down to see the top of Eric’s golden head, and I felt his chilly tongue pressed right against my panties. I froze, my blood running cold. He groaned and shuffled away from me into the connected bathroom. I took the opportunity to change out of my clothes and into my panda shirt and fresh heart-printed panties.

Eric came out, and he looked at me guiltily. “I was overcome. It won’t happen again. I apologize,” he murmured and swallowed. “I will not violate your trust.” I nodded. He came and sat next to me on the bed. “What are you thinking?” he asked me.

“I don’t know. I’m tired. Can I sleep down here with you?” I flopped back onto his ridiculously comfortable bed.

He looked at me. Considering. “You will be stuck down here all day until I wake.”

“There’s a toilet in there?” I pointed to the bathroom, and he nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

He seemed to think about it for a long time, and I was already starting to doze off.

“Very well,” he said. I felt him get up and heard him type the code in at the door, and then he came back and pulled the blanket around me. He got in next to me, and I cuddled up to him, and I felt him kiss my forehead.

“Gods...what are you doing to me?” he whispered, and then I was asleep.

*****

When I woke, Eric was still resting, and I was surprised to see him asleep. He looked so… dead. And relaxed, normally he had some small lines across his forehead and around his eyes, but in sleep, they seemed to smooth out. I wanted to get out my sketching things, to capture him like this, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I laid next to him and pulled his arm over me, just enjoying the fact that I could do so. It was strange and lovely to wake up in bed with him. It was something that I had never imagined possible. It wasn’t long before he woke, his eyes opened, and his whole body became animated.

“Did you rest well?” I asked him, and he stared at me.

“I had a dream,” he replied. “It’s not common for vampires.”

“Oh.” I didn't know that. “What did you dream about?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to tell me. “Was it a bad dream?” I asked. I put my arm around him, hoping to bring him comfort.

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t,” he replied, and then he kissed me softly, mindful of my jaw that was still healing.

I didn’t know what it meant. That Eric woke up from a dream and wanted to kiss me, but I quickly forgot all the words he had ever said to me. He was kissing down my neck, his fangs scraping me in a way that both excited and scared me. He had thrown the covers off me and was looking at my splayed thighs.

“Let me bite you?” he asked.

I nodded, and he leaned his head down to my thigh, appearing as though he was going to reopen the marks he made last night. He stopped suddenly and tilted his head as if hearing something.

“What?” I asked, and he swore. He pulled on pants over his boxers and stalked out of the room, and I followed, just peeking my head into the hallway.

“But I’m so hungry!”

I saw that Pam had pinned Jessica, Bill’s progeny, to the wall.

“I don’t fucking care!” Pam hissed. “Dana is mine!”

Eric went out and said something in Swedish to Pam. She stomped past him and up the stairs.

“Do you understand what claiming means?” Eric asked Jessica.

“Not really.” Jessica sniffed.

“It is an act of care,” Eric told her. “To claim a human is a responsibility to them. When you threaten Pam’s human, you exacerbate her defensive territorial instincts.”

“That doesn’t sound much like care. It sounds like ownership,” Jessica said, and I felt she had a point.

“You’ll feel the instinct to claim, and then you will know,” Eric told her softly. “Your Maker should have explained this all to you.”

“Well, he didn’t. He dumped me with you. After he was forced to make me,” Jessica mumbled. I felt my heart go out to her.

“How do you feel? Your bond with him, does it pain you?” Eric asked.

“It did the first night, but it’s okay now,” she explained.

“Go up and drink a bagged blood, not the AB negative,” he ordered her.

I slipped back into the room, making sure that Jessica wouldn’t see me as she passed.

Eric came back and gave me a knowing look. Apparently, I couldn’t hide from him, even if I was out of sight.

“I can’t believe she was made a vampire against her will!” I exclaimed, and I sat at the end of the bed. “Is that a common punishment?”

“The Authority, our governing body, is moving away from punishments that get humans involved in our affairs. The Great Revelation was a turning point for them. They do not condone blood-lust and violence against humans any longer. Jessica is more of a rarity now than in previous eras.”

I nodded. That was interesting. I still felt bad for her. “Is it bad for Bill to leave her, especially when she’s so new?”

“It’s almost unfathomable to me,” he told me. “Like leaving your newborn baby with a stranger.”

I gasped. I had no idea. “Why would he do that?”

Eric shook his head. “He was not raised well himself.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. My stomach grumbled loudly, and Eric smiled. I sometimes got the impression that Eric felt like my human needs were amusing. Like a puppy pawing at a food bowl.

“You need to feed.” He held his hand out to me. “Let’s go up.”

He led me upstairs, and I saw it was already dark, which surprised me. How late had I slept?

“You just missed Dana,” Pam smirked at me when I entered the main living space. “She ate some of your food.”

I shrugged; I didn’t care if she ate some of the food. Eric made sure I was content with a bowl of canned peaches, and then he left to go take a shower and get ready for the evening.

“So, how’s pet life treating you?” Pam asked me as she filed her nails. “Eric, buy you any bobbles or toys yet?”

“I’m not his pet,” I told Pam. Although, I felt a little like a pet, being fed peaches from a can.

“Seems like you’re getting a raw deal to me,” she replied. “Fucking and feeding him and not getting any of the perks of being claimed.”

I didn’t like that. I didn’t want to correct Pam about her assumption that Eric and I were having sex, and even if we did, I didn’t want her to think that I was pimping myself out.

“I’m not trading Eric my blood for money or presents.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked me intensely, narrowing her eyes, and I finally figured out that she was trying to figure me out to protect Eric.

“I want him to keep me safe from Bill and to make sure that Bill doesn’t take my house away,” I explained. “And...I think Eric’s interesting. I want us to be...friends.”

“Friends?” she scoffed and laughed. Pausing her laughter to just stare at me, she shook her head, “You want to be Eric Northman’s friend?” and continued to laugh like I was ridiculous.

“I want to be your friend too,” I told her as I gently nibbled a peach. “If you’ll let me.”

She stopped laughing abruptly and seemed confused by my answer. She watched me suspiciously.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” I suggested.

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” I replied simply. “I already know a lot about you.”

“Like what?”

“I know the basics, of course, you love fashion and material things, that you don’t care at all about humans unless you’re looking for one to feed from, that you're loyal to Eric above all others, and that nothing and no one will ever come between you. Especially not me.”

“You got that right,” Pam snapped. She crossed her arms and watched me.

Eric walked in, and I finished my peaches.

“Playing nice, Pam?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course.” She smiled, showing him her teeth. “We’re just chattin’ as us girls do, isn’t that right, sugar?”

I nodded. “I’m going to go shower,” I announced, and I felt Eric’s eyes follow me out.

I went and showered in the bathroom off of Eric’s upstairs room that served mostly as just a room to hold his clothes. I realized I forgot my clothes in the downstairs bedroom, so I wrapped a towel around myself and went to find Eric in the hope that he would code me down to get dressed.

I ran into Jessica in the hallway. She was dressed for the club, in a short skirt and goth top.

“Hi, Jessica, wasn’t it?” I asked her, and she nodded. “I’m Jane.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jessica said, and she seemed very sad.

“Are you okay?” I couldn’t help but ask her.

“No! I’m alone, and no one understands what I’m going through!” she exclaimed, and blood pooled in her eyes but didn’t fall. Then she threw her arms around me. This didn’t surprise me. I had always had people confiding in me. Even strangers in line at the supermarket would occasionally spill their sorrows to me.

“There, there,” I soothed and patted her shoulder, my other hand still tightly holding my towel. “I’m so sorry that this has happened to you.”

She sniffed. “You're the first person to say that to me.”

“I don’t know what it must be like for you right now, but I lost my Mama when I was eight and my Daddy ten years later, and I know what it’s like to feel alone,” I explained to her.

“It’s like my whole life died when I died,” she told me. “Like who I was doesn’t exist anymore.”

I couldn’t really understand what that would be like. “Well...maybe that means you can let go of some of the things you used to be, some of the things you didn’t want to be.”

She nodded, and I seemed to have told her the right thing.

“You’re so nice,” she said, and she hugged me again.

Eric came up behind Jessica, and I could see over her shoulder that he was displeased by Jessica hugging me.

“Jessica, go with Pam to the club,” he ordered her, and she released me.

“Thanks,” she said to me, and then she walked away. She paused, almost looking like she would stick her tongue out at Eric, but then thought better of it and continued down the hall.

Then it was just Eric and I standing in the living room, me clutching my towel tightly.

“I left my clothes downstairs,” I told him as he eyed the edge of my towel.

“You need to be wary of Jessica,” he told me as he led me back downstairs. “Sometimes, she’ll appear fine, normal, but her mood could change to thirst quite rapidly.”

“Okay,” I told him. “I will. She just seemed so sad.”

He sighed at me. “I worry about this compassion of yours. That it will endanger you.”

“Well, I’m not going to stop being me.” He coded me into the bedroom. “I will try to be thoughtful about Jessica, though.” I bent to get my clothes from my bag, and I heard Eric’s sharp intake of breath.

I turned around and realized he could probably see me under the edge of my towel when I bent over!

“Oh! I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, and I felt heat diffusing my face.

“If I didn't know better, I would say you’re a master seductress,” he told me, his eyes completely dark.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I told him.

He watched me for a moment and then exhaled loudly.

“I know,” he replied. “I need to go to the bar for this evening, and I was hoping you would accompany me.”

“Okay. I’ll get dressed and ready.” He shut the door behind him so that I could do so.

I quickly got ready, and surprisingly he drove me to the club. I assumed we would fly, but I was surprised when he pulled a sports car around the back from the garage. He stroked the steering wheel of the vehicle lovingly, and I thought he was a bit silly. I sat in the passenger seat and watched him with amusement. He rested his large cool hand on my bare knee. We didn’t speak as he drove, and I couldn’t stop noticing the weight of that hand against me. It felt comforting and also dangerous. It made my heart pound, and I couldn’t get a hold of myself.

It was just his hand on my knee.

When we pulled into the back parking lot, he moved his hand to the inside of my knee and pushed my legs apart, and felt his fingers graze against my bite mark.

“I feel you. My blood in you,” he told me.

“Does it bother you?” I asked, and I felt him push against the bites, and it made me gasp. I wanted it to be his fangs against me.

“No,” he replied. “It’s exhilarating, knowing how I make you feel.” He looked around briefly and then pressed a scorching kiss to my lips, then he exited the vehicle, zipped around to my door, and helped me out.

I felt a bit dazed.

The night at the club passed in a hazy blur. I made the mistake of drinking a tequila sunrise and taking one of my pain pills and didn’t realize I shouldn’t mix them until it was already too late. I felt particularly under the influence, and I didn’t like it one bit. I stayed with Eric for as much of the time as I could. It scared me to be in a bar, surrounded by so many people, and not control my faculties. At some point, Eric must have deposited me on the sofa in the office because I woke there, still feeling a bit out of it.

“Eric?” I called, remembering that he could hear me from anywhere in the building, and he appeared moments later.

“The bar just closed. I was about to wake you,” he told me, and he felt my forehead. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

I nodded, but my head bobbled more than I had intended. He chuckled.

“I don’t like feeling this way,” I explained. “It feels like too much.”

“I understand,” he replied. “We’ll leave soon.”

I nodded, and he gave me a bottle of water to drink. Not much later, he said it was time to go. Before I could protest, he carried me and placed me in the passenger seat of the car.

“I had forgotten myself that it would be unwise for you to mix them,” he explained. “You so rarely drink. It must be affecting you more than usual.”

“It was scary,” I told him. “I couldn’t stay calm. I felt all over the place.” I couldn’t quite capture how it felt.

“You felt that way when I had you on my lap. Like you were experiencing many emotions all at once. You seemed better in the office,” he explained. “You were able to rest.”

That was good. I couldn’t remember; my mind felt hazy.

We arrived at the nest, and Eric simply carried me down to his bedroom. He helped me with my dress, and he pulled on my sleep shirt, and I removed my bra from underneath it. I laid in the bed, and he was watching me with the strangest expression.

“Do you want to feed from me?” I asked.

“No,” he said, and he pulled the blankets up around me. “I want you to rest.”

“Okay,” I said and closed my eyes. I heard him sigh, and I felt a warmth in my heart.

No, I wasn’t Eric Northman’s pet, but I couldn’t say that I didn't like the feeling of him taking care of me. I tried to remember if there was ever a time that someone had cared for me out of choice. I thought of the string of nannies I had growing up, they had cared for me, but they were all paid to do so. I tried to recall the hazy weak memories of my mother. I thought of my father, too sick to even care for himself, let alone me.

I felt the weight of Eric’s cold hand on my waist, sucking the heat from my body into his hand. I could feel the stubble of his chin against the side of my neck. Just his mere presence behind me was a comfort that I had never had before.

To be cared about this way… it was a gift I didn’t really understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting a lot of comments about how they are longing for Dallas/Godric to be incorporated into the story. It's getting much closer now, but you'll still need to wait a bit. We have to get things set up...just right. Feel free to imagine my evil author laughter here. 
> 
> ~Soft


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to FumiyoSenka, the best beta reader ever!

Chap 12

Eric’s POV - _Saturday, July 4th, 2009_

I woke to the smell of wood, and all my instincts kicked in. I bolted upright, and I found the source of the scent and grabbed it. My fangs were down, and I was snarling before I could even process what I’d done.

“Eric!” Jane wailed, and my mind cleared. I was holding her tiny delicate wrist, in her hand, a simple wooden pencil. I looked down and saw she was drawing; she was sketching my face, completely relaxed in repose. My grip on her wrist was too tight, and I could have easily broken it.

I released her. She rubbed her wrist, and it appeared unbroken, but it would be deeply bruised. I flopped back down onto my bed. What would Godric say? I had an unglamoured human with wood in her hand in my resting place. He would kill me, and his wrath would know no bounds. It was a dangerous scenario and a risky thing to do... But I realized the first night when I allowed her to stay that by not glamouring her, I was breaking one of my most basic safety rules. I had felt...unsettled by my lack of control, how I had tried to lick her slick release that had gathered obscenely on her innocent cotton panties. She had wanted simply to stay and rest. Then last night, she had been so out of it, it hadn’t even occurred to me to try to glamour her. I had forgotten entirely of the presence of her pencil in her backpack, even though I knew it was there.

She was looking at me and her wrist and then back at me.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the bruise starting to form. I hurt her, and she apologized to me. Confounding woman... I brought her wrist to my mouth and kissed it. I gave it an open mouth kiss, laving my saliva onto her so, at the very least, it would hurt less for now.

“Ughh,” she moaned slightly. I could feel her in the blood. She felt back to her usual self again, no longer under the influence of alcohol or pain medication. Her little body was already winding up quickly, just from my mouth on her wrist. Her body came alive in response to my tongue tracing lazy patterns against the delicate purple-blue veins that spread up her forearm. Her skin was so thin here, and it would be so easy to puncture. I saw her nipples pebble beneath her shirt. I realized I hadn’t seen her breasts, and I wanted to desperately. I released her wrist from my mouth. I moved my hands to her waist.

“Can I touch you here?” I asked her, my hand hovering high on her rib cage, my eyes indicating the swell of her breasts.

She nodded, her eyes wild. I moved, and I cupped her firm breast in my hand; it fit perfectly. I brushed my thumb over the hard cloth-covered bead of her nipple, and she moaned again. So sensitive. I moved one of my hands underneath her shirt, gauging her reaction both in the blood and on her face, her eyes met mine, and I could tell she wanted more. I touched the bare silky smooth skin under her breast, and I felt myself shudder. How could anything be so warm and soft?

I needed to see her, and I decided to see if she would let me. I moved to take her shirt off, and she encouraged me to pull it off over her head. The perfectness of her struck me. Her breasts tipped in pink, her nipples hard rosy buds. I was dying all over again. I couldn’t help but touch her now, and she was ridiculously worked up from something so simple as me caressing her skin. I was enamored with her reaction and I had to resist the urge to let my fangs drop.

If this was her response to my gentle touches to her breasts, what would she do if I put my mouth on her slick folds? If I moved my hard cock within her tight body? She might simply combust. Her body temperature had already risen, and her breathing was coming in soft little pants. I rolled her rosy hard nipple between my fingers, and I felt all her muscles contract and spasm as if in warning of an impending climax. I stifled the awareness of my blood in her so I wouldn’t feel her so intensely.

“Can you come from this?” I asked her, and she nodded. I wondered if she had before. I moved my mouth to her other nipple and sucked it into my mouth, and my fangs came down. I didn’t pierce her with them, but I was certain she could feel the sharpness pressing against her skin. I increased the pressure of my mouth against her, and she writhed and screamed, a sound of rapture and ecstasy. I could feel her sudden climax in the blood. The simple action had spurned her on insanely, and I felt blindsided by her release. I lifted my mouth off her and watched. It was as if it had hit her like a truck out of nowhere, and she shivered and trembled in my arms, and I took in the mouth-watering scent of her release. My Gods, it was intense! I looked down at her panties and saw that she had dribbled past them and onto my duvet.

My desire to take her, to mark her, to bind her to me, and fuck her into oblivion was so powerful that I felt my fangs lengthen to sharp, deadly points of their own accord. I wanted her in every conceivable way, and the evidence of her pleasure splashed so joyously on my bed was damn near impossible to resist.

“Eric,” she said. “I got your bed wet.” I felt her embarrassment rise. “I’ve...never done that before.”

More perfect words could not have been said; I was the first to make her feel this way. I leaned in slowly, showing her my intention to kiss her, still unable to sheath my fangs. She allowed me to kiss her lightly, careful of her healing jaw and the near needle-like sharpness of my fangs. Her embarrassment was still burning through the bond, so I broke our kiss. Then I was finally able to draw my fangs and flick them away.

“Why are you so embarrassed?” I asked.

“I peed on your bed!” she whispered, covering her red face. “I don’t know what happened!”

I laughed. She had no idea.

“Jane, this is not urine,” I told her kindly, and she peeked out from behind her fingers. “This is your release. When you climaxed, you ejaculated.”

“I didn’t think women did that,” she said, giving me a surprised and sheepish look. It reminded me of how innocent she was, how I needed to treat her gently.

“It’s a special talent. One that I appreciate greatly,” I rumbled at her. I saw her eyes move to my hardened cock pressing insistently against my boxers. I sensed her fear then. The feeling deflated me rapidly. She had been hurt, and by the scared look on her face and what she had told me before, she had been hurt badly.

I offered her my arm, and she snuggled in. She was very cuddly, and I liked that as well. I loved feeling her in my arms. I took in her scent, her warmth against me, the sound of her heartbeat, and her breath breezing on my skin - it was an experience to be treasured.

Her fear dissipated as I held her, and that pleased me. I never want her to be afraid of me, any part of me.

“Does it hurt?” she asked in a small voice. “For you to not...come, once you’re all worked up?”

“It would but only if prolonged for an extreme amount of time, and either way, it would never be acceptable to pressure a partner for such a reason,” I replied. “Men have exaggerated this phenomenon for centuries.”

“I’m not hurting you by not being ready?” she asked, her face still buried against me.

“No, and if I were truly in need of release, I would go and handle it myself, quite literally,” I told her, and she giggled sweetly.

“Good. I don’t ever want to hurt you,” she said, and I heard the absolute honesty in her voice. I felt the steady rhythm of her heart; she had no deception in that statement.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” I placed a gentle kiss on her wrist. “It is very dangerous to have an unglamoured human in my resting place, especially one that is armed with something that could be used as a stake,” I told her seriously, and I watched her process.

“If I was deranged, I could have killed you…” She looked at me in horror. “Why didn’t you glamour me into promising I would never stake you? Why did you even let me stay down here?”

“You hate to be glamoured. I promised never to glamour you unless absolutely necessary,” I told her simply. “But don’t ever mention it to anyone, especially not Pam. If she did the same with one of her humans, I would have her fangs for it.”

She nodded in understanding, but I could see her mind still trying to figure everything out.

“We have a big bash at the club tonight. Would you like to come?” I suddenly asked her, attempting to divert her attention from her worry. “Red, White, and Blood?” I waggled my eyebrows, and she snorted.

“Not Freedom and Fangs?” she retorted with a wry smile.

“That’s a good one. I’ll save it for next year.”

“Okay, but I want to go home at the end of the night,” she agreed and then stretched. Jane’s breasts were still uncovered, and my thoughts stuttered to a halt as I was distracted by the sight of them. “Eric?” she asked, and I looked up at her face, a little dazed, my mind still on all the things I wanted to do her. “Can I go upstairs and shower?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, of course.” I handed her the sleep shirt with the hilarious panda pun on it, and sadly she put it on and covered up the best breasts I had ever seen. And I had seen many...

I typed in the code to unlock the door, and she followed me up the stairs, and I unlocked that door as well. Jane slipped past me, and with a sweet smile, she went into the bedroom and through to the ensuite bath. Shaking my head, I wrote off my lackadaisical approach to my safety. It was entirely out of character for me and went against everything Godric had ever taught me, but I trusted her. Implicitly.

Tilting my head to listen, I could hear she was humming a simple melody in the shower And quickly I yanked my mind away from thinking about her in the shower. It would not help my obsession with her body. Heading to the bedroom, I looked through my closet, trying to figure out what Pam would want me to wear tonight. Red, White, and Blood? Perhaps I should just wait for her and allow her to choose.

“Eric?” Jane called, and I dipped my head into the bathroom, trying not to get my hopes up.

“Yes?” I asked. She was standing wrapped in a towel.

“Umm...I left my backpack with clothes downstairs…” she started hesitantly, and I nodded. I zipped down and got her bag for her and zipped back up. She blinked a few times before giving me a shy smile and taking her bag, dipping her head a bit, “Thanks.” I exited, trying not to notice how the water beaded on her rose-scented skin.

Going back to the closet, I pulled out black trousers from the closet and held them up. Black trousers were my best guess. Hopefully, Pam would be mollified slightly.

Jane came out of the bathroom looking angelic in the white dress that I chose for her. “Is this going to be okay for tonight?” she questioned and gestured to her dress. “I don’t have any clothes that fit the...style of Fangtasia.”

“I like your style, as you say. Pam would know better about what will be acceptable attire for tonight. In fact, I’m going to have her choose for me.”

“She’s very fashionable.” Jane smiled.

“Indeed. I’ll shower now if you don’t mind,” I said as I stood close enough to feel Jane’s body heat and heard the sound of her heartbeat stutter.

“No, I...I don’t mind,” she breathed out, and I moved past her into the shower. She was so much fun to tease - it really shouldn’t be so entertaining. I found myself grinning like a loon as I felt her excitement through the blood—far too much fun. I could also feel that she needed to take her pain pill, and I hoped that she would soon.

When I got out of the shower, I could tell that Pam is waiting for me in the bedroom, her soft scent drifting through the bathroom doorway. I had turned Pam near the sea as well, and she smelled of San Francisco fog and thought the lovely scent of mist and rain suited her perfectly. I knew that she would ask me about Jane staying downstairs. I was trying to prepare myself to either lie or avoid her question. Telling her the truth was unthinkable.

With just a towel around my waist, I walked out to my waiting childe. She was holding up a black shirt with an American flag design in all white, save one solitary red stripe that immediately reminded me of a drip of blood.

“Clever,” I told her.

“Wear these slacks,” Pam stated confidently as she held up a tight pair of black jeans. “They’ll make your ass look great.”

“My ass is great,” I replied, shedding the towel and pulling on boxer briefs.

“I know,” she said, eyeing me flirtatiously. Oh Pam, my darling progeny, she knew exactly what she was doing. “Jane didn’t stay here last night, or the night before,” Pam stated, noting the lack of Jane’s scent and the still-made bed.

“She did not,” I replied, steeling myself. “What of it?”

“You had her in your resting place?” she asked, astounded.

“Yes.” I squeezed into the black slacks.

“I thought she reacted badly to the glamour?” Pam continued to prod.

“She understands when the glamour is necessary,” I explained curtly, technically not lying.

“Hmm...I’m not surprised. Most women would be willing to do anything to get a ride with you.” Pam examined her nails, affecting her air of boredom that I knew was a mask.

“I’ve not had sex with her, Pam,” I told her forthright.

Pam cackled. “I get it now. It’s the chase. That’s what’s got you so hung up on her.”

I pulled the shirt on, and it stretched across my broad shoulders. I flexed them uncomfortably.

“It’s more than that, Pam, don’t push,” I told her seriously.

She examined me. I could see she was trying to read me, and I stared back at her. Scoffing, she strode out with a flip of her hair, obviously wanting to say something more but knew better than to do so. Pam would always have my back, even if she didn’t understand me, just as I would always have hers. She was my only progeny, my daughter, oftentimes my mother, and my best friend.

Feeling Jane’s apprehension, I followed it out the kitchen where I found Jessica, dressed in a revealing red, white, and blue dress, completely invading Jane’s personal space. Fucking baby vamps, always pushing the limits.

“Jessica,” I snapped, and she turned around.

“What?” she whined and gave me an annoyed look. “I didn’t touch her.”

Jane looked out from under Jessica’s arm and nodded. “I’m fine,” she answered softly and swallowed.

“Take a blood, heat it, and drink it in your room,” I ordered the redhead. “If you’re good, I’ll let you feed from a human tonight.” Perking up, Jessica did exactly as I asked. I would let her do a live feed tonight, it was more nutritious, and as she wasn’t made very strong, she would need all the help she could get. It would be good for her and her mental health as well, barring disasters.

Jane was grimacing in pain as she drank a protein shake that she must have found in the cupboard. It was good that she was feeding. I was concerned about her nutrition; that thinness of her waist wasn’t quite healthy. I eyed the round fullness of her ass, it was very healthy. Jane took another drink of her shake and I felt her pain spike.

“Go get your pain pills,” I ordered. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You need to take one. I can feel you,” I told her.

Humming and shaking her head, “I don’t want to feel all out of it. I’ll bring them with me,” she conceded.

Stubborn woman.

“Fine.”

Pam walked in and took one look at Jane and grinned. “White. Nice. Let me do your hair,” Pam commanded her. Jane looked at me, and I nodded. Perhaps Pam would start to get a hint of what I had been trying to understand.

My phone buzzed and I looked down to see that I had a message from Godric.

**While John and I thought it would be the second day of July and not the fourth that we celebrated independence, it should be marked all the same.**

Of course, that is what he would send me. Godric had been in the States when the Declaration of Independence was being signed, and he had known John Adams personally.

Unsure how I wanted to respond just yet, I went into the office and checked my email. Finally, there was movement from the AVL, and I was to receive a call from Nan tomorrow night for instructions on my prisoners. I checked on my investments and was looking through some of the reports when Pam burst in. She brought Jane forward.

“Am I good, or am I good?” Pam asked, gesturing to Jane.

She had done Jane’s long blonde hair in a style from the 1940s, and her makeup as well, her lips a classic vintage red. With her white dress, she reminded me of an American nurse during World War II. She was stunning, and it made me realize that her face was timeless.

I stalked over to Jane and held her chin delicately in my hand, wary of her healing jaw. I inspected every inch of her face. “This merely highlights her considerable beauty,” I told Pam, and she grinned at my praise of her skills.

“I thought it looked patriotic,” Jane deflected. Sighing, I stared down at her with a brow raised - she just couldn’t accept a compliment.

“Eric, we need to leave,” Pam reminded me.

“Take the top down on the Buick,” I told Pam. After seeing Jane, I knew we had to take the 1941 Buick super convertible coupe. I had just had it detailed, and it was shining and ready to go.

“Excellent,” Pam agreed and then eyed Jane as if she had found a new toy and then left.

Jane watched her go and shook her head. “Pam’s...interesting,” she said.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“She’s one of the most secretively nice people I have ever met,” Jane told me as she idly examined the books on my bookcase.

One hairdo later, and Jane had Pam pegged. It astounded me. Most people, vampire or human, struggled to figure Pam out. Her abrasive attitude, her sharp tongue, and almost unreadable face made it next to impossible for those who did not know her to see her motives. Pam was loyal and generous...to those she found worthy.

“How can you tell?” I asked Jane, and she smiled at me mysteriously.

“I just can,” she stated airly with a shrug as she walked alongside the bookcase and stroked the spine of a collection of poems.

“Eric?” Pam popped in and looked at me concerned, although, to most, she would still look passively blank.

“We’re coming out now,” I said, and I took Jane’s hand in mine, and we went out to the car. I put Jane in the passenger seat, and Pam respectfully took the back so that Jane would not be sitting next to impulsive newborn Jessica.

The line outside the club was already extremely long, and we would have to turn people away. I could tell we would reach maximum capacity.

“That’s a lot of people,” Jane murmured as she looked at the line, and I felt that she was nervous.

“That’s a lot of blood!” Jessica exclaimed, her baby fangs poking out.

“Jessica put your fangs away, or I won’t give one to you tonight,” I told her sternly, and she barely forced her fangs back in.

We parked in the back, and I was pleased to see that Chow was already there with Ginger and the other waitresses. They had decked the place out in gaudy red, white, and black decor, and it was very fitting and over the top. I left Jane at the bar and checked on the prisoners in the basement. The conditions were sanitary, and they all had food and water. I still wanted them gone.

When I came back up, the club was already packed, and Jane was attempting and failing to have a conversation with Ginger.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jane asked as I pulled her with me to the throne.

“She’s been glamoured too much. Mostly by Longshadow,” I explained.

Jane looked back at her sadly and frowned. She really did have empathy for everyone I mused. I pulled her to my lap, and she wriggled against me delightfully.

“Are there fireworks tonight?” she asked.

I nodded. “You can see the city's firework display perfectly from outside the club.”

“Can we go see it?” Her voice was laced with excitement, and I found it hard to deny her anything.

“It won’t start until later, but I think I can take you to see some of it.”

I saw Pam with her pet Dana, and I nodded to them as I saw Pam take Dana into the back. Pam would be happy. I saw Jessica bringing out more bottles of alcohol from the back and behaving herself.

“Who should we get for Jessica to feed on?” I asked Jane.

Jane looked at me to see if I was serious, and when she saw that I was, she actually began to scan the crowd. I had expected her to protest, to make me explain why Jessica needed to feed. Of course, she just went with it. I could not predict her at all. Jane singled out a young man with tattoos and piercings. He was completely into the lifestyle and would be thrilled at an experience with a vampire, even a rough newborn.

“You’re good at this,” I told her. “Who would you pick for me?” I asked teasingly, but she took me seriously and scanned the crowd longer. She pointed out a beautiful Latina who was there with a group of friends. She was laughing and smiling, having a good time, and had already turned down a man’s invitation to dance.

“Why her?” I asked, knowing that I would have likely chosen her myself.

“You like beautiful women who know themselves, and that only do what they want.”

I grinned. If she was a vampire, she could be a procurer for a high court of lazy vamps that didn’t hunt for themselves.

“Now choose for Pam,” I said, testing her.

She scanned the crowd, and her eyes fell on a woman with expensive shoes and a lacey bustier, and the sharp, sly smile of a fox.

“Her,” she said.

I chuckled. She was good. “How do you know?” I questioned, thoroughly impressed and entertained with her results.

Jane shrugged, brushing off the compliment like always as she went back to scanning the room. “Who’s that?” she asked, and I saw her looking at Dana.

“She is Pam’s,” I explained.

Jane shook her head. “There’s something not right about her.”

“She hasn’t been Pam’s long. A month or so,” I stated.

Jane got off my lap and followed Dana toward the bathrooms. I wasn’t too concerned. I would be able to feel if Jane was having any problems. I did some work from my phone, and I saw Chow bounce some people out. It was going surprisingly smoothly. Jane had been gone a while, and I felt out to the blood for her, and she felt fine if a little...angry? Jane wasn’t prone to anger, that was unusual. I looked in the crowd for her, and I didn’t see her, so I started following the blood to her, and she was in the hallway with Dana.

Dana was laughing and chatting with her, and through the din of sound, I heard Jane ask Dana a question.

“So, you’re just with Pam for free clothes and shopping trips?”

“Oh, please, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. You’ve been there, you’ve seen how much they have, I’ve got big plans,” Dana said, and I felt Jane’s anger rise.

“Oh? Do tell?” Jane said in a mischievous friendly way, and I caught that she was playing Dana right away.

“Everything is protected with a key code. As soon as I have the code…” Dana trailed off with a raised eyebrow and smirk. “You must have some big plans yourself if you managed to snag Northman.”

Jane gave her a measured look, and I felt her anger flare at Dana. “Oh. I have plans.” Jane turned and marched away, not noticing me watching her from the shadows. She went directly out to the main floor and seemed surprised to see that I wasn’t on the throne. She then immediately turned and went to my office, trying to find me to report the treachery of Pam’s pet. I felt my blood rush through my body, animated by whatever magic it was that kept me going.

Jane was honorable and loyal. I wanted her. I needed her. She was _mine_. I made her jump slightly by coming up behind her, and I opened the door of the office and pushed her in. I had her backed up against the door in seconds.

I leaned in to kiss her. I wanted her badly. Her loyalty was an aphrodisiac unto itself, and her righteous anger intoxicating. If she had permitted it, I would have already been fucking her tight body against the solid door of my office. I would have pounded her until she screamed so loudly that even the human ears would be able to hear her cries over the thudding music. I tried not to grind against her. I kissed her as gently as I could. She moaned softly, and I felt her hips grind back against mine.

“Eric.” She broke my kiss, panting. “I need to tell you something—” I kissed her again. Gods! I could not get enough of her. I forced myself to stop.

“You were coming to find me.”

“Yes. Dana’s—”

“I heard. I will tell Pam, and she will handle it.” I looked down into her teal eyes.

“Oh.”

“I find that your loyalty excites me,” I told her, and she gulped. I felt her heart thud against her chest, and she sent me a mixture of excitement and pleasure, tinged with apprehension. I breathed against her neck and smelled her. AB negative, roses, and whatever wild earthy near addictive deliciousness that was just...her. Jane trembled and ground against me, and it took all my willpower not to bite her neck and lift her dress.

I stepped out of her space, and she breathed a huge sigh out. I felt her calm slightly. And it helped me as well. We both took a moment and then my eyes fell on the clock. “Would you still like to see the fireworks?” I asked her.

“Yes, please!” she chirped and smiled broadly.

“Very well. I need to speak with Pam first. After the fireworks display, we will need to let Jessica feed.”

She nodded. “Should I be there for that?” she asked apprehensively.

“Most humans are not as...excited by the feed as you are. And I prefer not to have you out of my sight,” I said, irrationally territorial over her. “Come with me while we find Pam.”

She agreed, and I found Pam at the door turning many humans away, only letting those in that she deemed worthy. I nodded to her, and she followed us back to the office. I explained Jane’s fact-finding and the truth about Dana’s long-term intentions.

“Try not to kill her?” I asked, knowing it wouldn’t be prudent with the direction the AVL was trying to take things.

Pam’s eyes darkened and she grumbled as she left, and I knew that she would take care of the Dana situation.

“Okay. Fireworks now?!” Jane asked, adorably excited.

“Come with me,” I said, and I led her by the hand out the back, and then I pulled her quickly into my arms and flew her to the roof. I kept a chair up there for when I would come up here to think. I sat in it and pulled her to my lap, and nuzzled her neck. She was looking up at the sky, and I felt her anticipation.

A firework burst above us, and she oohed. “That was like a poppy, wasn’t it?”

Another one went off, and she continued to make appreciative sounds. “Those were palm trees!” she exclaimed, and I could tell she loved this.

I let her narrate the entire firework display, staying far longer than I had intended. She stood and paced, trying to see the fireworks from different angles. At one point, I snapped a photo of her with my phone. She was silhouetted against the sky, nothing but the shape of her gorgeous curvy little body visible against the explosion of light from the fireworks illuminating the sky. I sent it in response to Godric’s text, knowing that he would appreciate the artistry and her fine form. Jane took no notice. Her focus was entirely on the display, eventually, she came and sat back down in my lap. She compared the fireworks to flowers and trees, to animals, and volcanoes.

Every single one was beautiful to her.

“Which was your favorite?” I asked her after the finale.

“I couldn’t say. They were all stunning and unique. Each one had its one shining moment, and then, in a kiss of fire, it’s gone.” It was when she said things like that, that she most reminded me of Godric. Instead of brooding about Godric and his declining mental health, I turned to more immediate matters.

“Let’s go feed the baby,” I said, and I held out my hand and pulled her to me. I flew her down, and we went through the back. The crowd that had been outside watching the display had poured back in, and I was glad to see that Chow was on the door keeping everyone in line.

I snagged Jessica from the stock room and directed her to my office. Jane was watching everything curiously. I glamoured the young tattooed man Jane had picked simply to follow me. When I brought him into the office for Jessica, her fangs flicked down.

“Down girl,” I told her, and she forced them in. I turned to the young man. “Tell us your name.”

“Marco,” he said, looking at Jessica.

“Jessica is a new vampire and needs some practice feeding,” I explained. “Are you interested?”

“Just feeding?” he asked, eyeing her body hopefully.

“Yes,” I replied. I didn’t know if she had the control for anything else right now, and as I was not her Maker I wouldn’t be able to command her. Jessica’s puritanical upbringing made it unlikely that she would have that conversation with me. I would have to have Pam talk to her about her needs. Perhaps let her buy some sort of device to aid her.

“I am interested,” he agreed, although he was a little disappointed.

“Good. Sit on the couch. Jessica, join him,” I ordered. Jane went and sat in my chair behind my desk, and I could feel her trepidation through the bond.

“Pam taught you to bite?” I confirmed. Jessica nodded. “Show me what you have learned.”

Jessica leaned over and licked the human’s neck. She could lick a little wider and for a little longer, but she was young and impatient. She leaned in and bit. She hit the right spot, thankfully. But she had no finesse. Young Marco was not pleased. She was making a mess too. Blood was escaping because she was feeding with her fangs in. It certainly felt good to have your fangs stuck in, but it was sloppy and unpleasant for the human.

“Stop,” I ordered her, but she didn’t. It reminded me again that I was not her fucking Maker. I pulled her off him. “Retract your fangs,” I ordered, and she complied. “Now drink, look at the mess you’ve made of him.”

She slurped up the blood that was still leaking from his neck, and it looked raw and terrible. Pam only taught her where to hit with her fangs not to kill the human. Leave it to her to do the bare minimum of what I asked. When he was finally not dripping down his neck anymore, I pulled Jessica off him. I opened up my desk drawer and tossed him a bandage. He slapped it on, completely used to being bitten. I told him to come back later in the week when his wound had healed more so Jessica could try again. It would be less exciting for her to feed on the same human and maybe she would get a better feel of the territorial instincts she possessed as well.

“Pam will take you to the nest at closing,” I told her. “Go back and finish in the stockroom.”

Wiping the blood ring from around her mouth, she followed my command.

Jane was sitting in my chair, twisting it back and forth, and I couldn’t read her mood through the blood.

“What are you thinking?” I asked her, stopping the spinning of the chair.

“You bite me very nicely,” she said. She looked up. “I didn’t realize how much practice and control it must take.” I knelt before her and spread her legs in my chair and looked at my bites on her—my marks. I looked up at her with dark eyes, and I saw her want in them. She was such a gift, wanting my bite so badly.

“Would you like me to bite you nicely now?” I purred as my voice came out deeper than I had even intended, and I saw her shiver.

“No,” she said suddenly, and I was surprised. I thought for certain she would want me to make her come with my bite. “I’m...I’m sorry.”

I closed her thighs and covered her white cotton panties. I could feel her need, her arousal through the blood. Why didn’t she want my bite?

“Can you tell me why?” I asked her, still kneeling.

“I’m...I have to think. About what I just saw. What it...means.” She tilted her head, and I could see her thoughts churning.

“Would you like me to take you home now?” I asked her, feeling her shifting mood.

“Yes, please.” She stood, and I stood with her.

Jane grabbed her backpack, and we walked out of the front. She bid Pam goodbye, and once we were in the alley, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. I wished that I did not have to return her to her home. After the loyalty she showed today, I wanted her to live in our nest. She was too much of an asset to be so far away and far too delightful and intriguing to be all the way in Bon fucking Temps. I tried to feel her mood, but her jaw was achy, and she was tired, and I couldn’t get a feel for much else.

When we touched down in front of her house, I escorted her inside, if only to have more time with her. She unpinned her hair and slipped off her shoes, and she looked rapturously undone. I poured her a glass of water, and she took her pills out of her backpack and took one out, and broke it in half. I rolled my eyes at her, but then she took the water and pushed the pill into her mouth.

When she was done, she went up to her room, and I followed. She dug through her drawer and pulled out a pajama shirt. She lifted her hair off her back and then looked over her shoulder.

“Will you unzip me?” she asked, and for a moment, I thought she was seducing me, but I could feel her tiredness in the blood, and I could see the innocence in her eyes. She had no idea of her effect on me. I undid the zipper, and she stepped out of her dress. She pulled on her pajama top quickly and removed her bra under her shirt, throwing it on the floor with her dress.

She climbed into her bed, and I pulled the covers around her.

“Thank you for the fireworks,” she said softly, drowsy.

“Of course,” I whispered back.

“Eric...I made a mistake about the bite,” Jane suddenly muttered. Her eyes were closed, and I felt that she was moments from sleep. “It’s much more between us than I thought. It’s deeply personal, the way you do it.”

Then she was out.

I left and locked her house up behind her, and I still didn’t like the idea of her living out in the middle of fucking nowhere by herself. I flew back and thought about what she said. Deeply personal. It was. Godric had taught me to bite. It was a very intimate thing the way he had shown me. He had been my first bite, after all. When I was young and unpracticed, it wasn’t as nice as it was now. But it was more than that - it was her. Jane made it personal. As I put every ounce of control into it, she put her trust in me, and it was intimate. When I gave her my orgasmic bite, and she gave me her delicious blood, it was akin to lovemaking. Jessica’s rough bite to Marco made her see the difference. Her bite was the equivalent of a quick fuck in a bar bathroom.

What Jane and I did was an exchange. She trembled and shuddered from the penetration of my fangs, and I took her rare earthy blood inside me.

It was much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Eric's POV chapter, as we had to get into his head. Thanks to everyone who let me know that they're enjoying the journey! It's a hard balance between developing characters and but also not wanting to rush through.


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